Ouch that hurt. I mean really hurt.

He took me into his private room and asked me to take my left shoe and sock off. Then he smiled and explained exactly what he was going do to me – step by step. I got all hot and sweaty. I had never done this kind of thing before. Then I had to stand up, bend over his table with one knee on the table, my bare foot facing toward him. He chuckled in a sado- avuncular sort of way.

“This may hurt – a lot.” He said. He started to massage my heel. What had I let myself into? An Asian uncle foot fetishist? “Just a small prick,” he warned, and then the deeply throbbing pain started. He stayed there behind me for three or four minutes comforting me in my discomfort. I was advised to stand still and it wouldn’t last long. This was my first time and hopefully my last. A short, eye watering time later he pulled it out and asked me to get dressed. He said that he’d done this many times before and promised to call me next week.

“Thank you doctor,” said I. He seemed to like that.

I was expecting another painful needle injection but he said he had done them both – the local anaesthetic and the steroid injection in my heel to help the discomfort I have put up with ~ in varying degrees ~ with plantar fasciitis for months.

Hang on. What did you think I was talking about?

I’m not needle phobic but it blummin’ well hurt and hopefully I won’t have to go back ever again. As I type the local anaesthetic hasn’t worn off. Gee, am I looking forward to that. Time to cook something nice whilst I can still stand. Have a good day.

comfort food, roast pork and spuds