The plantar fascia is a broad ligament just dorsal to the foot’s subcutaneous fatty tissue. Microtearing, and the body’s attempted repair of it, results in chronic inflammation. Heel pain with the first few steps in the morning and after a period of rest is the classic symptom of plantar fasciitis. The pain improves with activity but recurs after prolonged weight bearing, often at the end of the day. Usually, the pain is felt in the front and bottom of the heel, but as the definition of “plantar fasciitis” indicates, it can be felt in any portion of the bottom of the foot where the fascia is located. Often, patients report that the pain is predominantly in the heel but radiates to the arch. (The Journal of Musculoskeletal Medicine. Vol. 26 No. 3 April 1, 2009)
When plantar fasciitis symptoms occur in menopausal women, it’s believed to be…compounded by a decrease in the body’s healing capacity. (vibrantnation.com)
Had my one month check up on the foot yesterday. Doc says looking good this time except for the stiffness of the scar tissue underneath the incision site. Its preventing me from getting into my shoe just yet. Put a piece of duct tape tightly across the bottom of your foot just where the ball starts to bend. Now walk – that’s pretty much what it’s like, but tender, too. I keep thinking I’ve stepped on something that’s stuck to my foot.
This is the best and simplest diagram I could find to give an idea of what went on. Doc has some great photos of my actual surgery, but I’m a bit chicken to ask if I can have a copy.
The 1st surgery was just a slice across and the ligament grew back together through the scar tissue.
The 3rd surgery was a bit experimental, higher on the foot and taking a larger, postage stamp chunk of the ligament out. This was to try and avoid having to ‘strip’ the ligament where a zigzag incision is made down the length of the foot and the ligament is cut across in various places down the foot.. Not the option I hope we have to resort to.
I also had a cortisone injection in the other foot. Not fun. He freezes with a spray of ethel chloride, which in itself stings like the devil as the skin temp drops. I have no fear of needles, but when he hits the internal the spot where my foot is hurting – oh yeah, its bullet biting time. Of course it didn’t help that my 7 year old kept asking me, “Does it hurt?”. My inner childishness was thinking just wait until he has his next round of inoculations.
I can only describe the feeling afterward as if I’m walking on something stuffed inside my shoe. Its definitely different from the novocaine shots the dentist uses to have you drool, not that this caused me to drool – just wince and wish I could let loose with a sailor’s curse.
So, now I look like I’m walking on hot coals trying to baby both feet at the same time. I feel a bit like those old ladies one sees hobbling around WalMart. Or for those of you who may remember, Festus from Gunsmoke. “I’ll be right over Mr. Dillion.”
I’ve been on disability for this round. First time I’ve had to deal with the insurance company in this manner. Its a joy.
We have saved the latest message from them on the answering machine. Think extremely heavy New York accent – “I need to have the paperwork faxed back by the 10th ‘cawse, I’d really don’t want to have to deny this.” Are the insurance companies now hiring goodfellas? I’d made sure that the Doc’s office was up on the paperwork!
I get good parking right now, although I’d rather just park next to the cart return. What good is it to park in handicapped but have to walk all the way back and forth to return your cart? Parking lot planners did not think well in that area.
I also get to ride in those little motorized scooters in the store. I’ve finally gotten the hang of driving them. I can make hairpin turns now. In the beginning it was a bit like the golf cart scene from Austin Powers. My partner will walk with me without fear and that’s saying a lot.
That’s about it for this rambling, especially since I have an impatient 7 year old staring me down. He wants to go to the store with me so that he can drive the scooter. Whatever it takes, eh?
Next segment will ramble on about the second of Mr. Franklin’s suggestions: Wealthy. That should be a hoot.