Life of Wry

I am a woman of a certain age. Every day, another indignity.

I went to my primary today (actually a sub for my primary) with four items of .. concern. Little things, but things I felt should probably be addressed. One wants to nip things in the bud, right? And wouldn’t ya know, they’re all age related.

I’m not going to even write about two of them. You just go ahead and guess whatever you like. The two that are shareable: a shoulder that seems to have lost some of its range of motion (may I get a PT referral, please?); and one of them bunion things (may I get a podiatrist referral, please?)

The shoulder I can live with, but I do NOT want my toes going every whichway. I have lots of hiking left in me, and I do NOT want to add to the list of things already making hiking more difficult than it used to be!

I got a PT referral for my shoulder without hesitation. Thanks substitute doc!

The bunion.. no. He said one only gets to see a podiatrist if surgery is the last remaining option. So he sent me home with a handout of home remedies and a big good luck. Basically, sensible shoes, maybe some cushy pads to protect from rubbing, and a few other things that could stop its progression. It’s not even arthritis. And it’s only on one foot, because, he said, we are asymmetrical like that. Here it is:

Somewhat subtle under sandal straps, but def on its way to stage right.