Dr. V kindly nodded and didn't judge me about the Internet diagnosis (that I could tell--he's really that nice of a guy) and said he could help. Interior sprains are evidently notorious for putting ankle bones out of whack, so while nothing's broken, things have been uncomfortably out of place for months. (Despite all my physical therapy--turns out my muscle strength wasn't the issue.) Dr. V fixed it with just a few well executed jerks and twists on my foot and ankle. I can jump, spin, turn, shimmy and shake without any twinge or fear of collapsing. Friday he told me after performing the 3rd adjustment that I could test-run it over the weekend. For the first time since August I ran without a brace or tape and I felt fine. No throbbing, no sharp pain, no shooting pain, no dull ache. Which kind of makes me want to kiss Dr. V, but I won't because it's not that kind of relationship. (yet. I do have a thing for chiropractors--there's something so awesome about how that cracking makes a body feel better.) Also? My nerve pain has significantly disappeared thanks to the adjustments he's made on my back. I'm so so so thankful to feel better again. I was terrified that all the aches and pains were due to aging. I'd mentally moved karate and running off the table and had looked into shuffleboard lessons. Turns out I'm good to go for another 40,000 miles (or so).
I'm seeing him again tomorrow morning. I'll shave my legs. As a courtesy, of course.
The view outside mostly looks like this:
Lots of testosterone, plus a shaggy mutt always under foot, doing the heavy lifting and riding around on the 4-wheeler. Some days we have enough ballplayers hanging out around here to field a team.
That expression Mr. T's giving you about sums it up, doesn't it? I can practically hear him saying "Really, Mom?"