Fingers and toes

In just the last two weeks I've had appointments with both a hand surgeon and a podiatrist!  That's a new record for me with doctor visits. I'm truly blessed with good health and so I avoid conventional medicine as much as possible.  Most minor afflictions go away sooner or later. America is going bankrupt with heath care costs, yet statistics show we're the unhealthiest rich country in the world. More medicine is not always good medicine. So I've never been one to head to the doctor often, other than an annual checkup and the usual sensible screenings for people my age. 

But when I need to consult a doctor, I like most of them despite myself. Maybe I've just been lucky in the choices, or it's because I seldom go and so appreciate their advice more. It's no surprise that my hands and feet have taken a real beating in 62 years. We all know feet are complicated and terrific and necessary, but we take them for granted until they hurt. (More on the hand doctor later.)

A few weeks ago I sprained my ankle trying to balance too long on one leg in yoga class.  It wasn't getting better, so I finally went to a neighborhood foot doctor yesterday.  The wonderful man spend an hour examining my poor old feet with fascination (really?) and telling me all about my conformation idiosyncrasies.  As a farrier would say in the horse world. Basically, my self diagnosis was right-- he said an injured deep tendon that should heal slowly with stretching, wrapping and all the usual things. A real drag, but not the end of the world.

Greek toe

He also enjoyed describing my short metatarsal bones, a condition known as "Morton toe" or "Greek toe."  John has been known to refer to it more cruelly as my "deformed" toes.   The shortened metatarsal means that the second toe is noticeably longer than the big toe. This isn't a great tragedy, but it can aggravate problems, such as what I'm having now.  Morton toe used to be called a genetic defect, but since 10% of the population have the condition it's now kindly referred to as just a "genetic variant."  It's more common with people of European ancestry, so some of my German ancestors must have been walking around on funny feet.  I got it from my mother.

Art museums are full of examples of Morton toes on Greek and Roman statues and Renaissance paintings.  I don't feel too bad because the Statue of Liberty has a foot that looks exactly like mine, and she has been standing there for quite a while.  It must have once been considered very beautiful.

  Take that, John.