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Re: Rest worked for me, for the most part

Posted by Robin B. on 4/04/00 at 00:00 (018261)

Nancy -- as you know, I gave my feet a good looooong rest -- pretty close to a year of doing as little as humanly possibly directly on them. 22 hours a day on my butt or back -- for days and days on end -- I think may be an all-time record.

Even though I am much better now -- I still have days of painful twinges and very minor setbacks. I find it hard to know what to attribute the pain to -- day to day, I really don't change much of anything -- not exercise, not dietary, not stretching, not beverages, caffeine, alcohol, etc. (Yeah, it speaks to what a boring life I have given myself -- albeit mostly painfree.)

I am beginning to believe that for many of us, getting PF is a life marker from which we can recover -- but we can never again engage in the abuse or even neglect of our feet that we once did. I think I will always have a wee touch of PF and will always have to behave myself, wear my Birks, use bromelain, keep my diet low carb, get exercise, etc.

Of course -- those are all, for the most part, sensible things to do. I think rest remains critical. I find lately that at the first sign of pain -- I pretty much resort to a little additional rest and absolutely no cheating on the carbs, steady ingestion of bromelain -- and then things seem to return to being okay. But unfortunately, I think some of us will always have to remain vigilent. Even though I am much better after 2 years, I still have my moderately painful moments and am increasingly preparing to be one of the vigilent ones from now until...forever, I guess. But it's worth it. Getting a semi-normal life back is worth just about anything. You're right -- patience is a key concept, one that all of us can use.



Re: Rest worked for me, for the most part

Nancy S. on 4/04/00 at 00:00 (018266)

Dear Robin, Yes, maybe some version of eternal vigilance and rest when needed is in the cards for some of us. I guess maybe you can tell I'm still trying to accept that, each day. For some reason I thought if I rested for three months, that would mean I'd reached a certain point, And Now, on with life! And it did help, a lot -- but I see resting is not over, and my acceptance of the process is far from complete. For example, when you wrote that for some of us PF is a sort of life marker from which we can recover but 'never again engage in abuse or even neglect' of our feet, I felt sad! Sad that I can't abuse or neglect my feet! i.e., that I can't not think about them, that I can't fly around free as a bird. I don't want to feel this way (sad), I want to transcend it. I want to accept what life throws to me -- I mean do the best I can to work at it and make it better, but then accept the remains and not waste mental energy regretting whatever can't be changed. Maybe this is a part of aging gracefully -- I don't want to grow into someone fixated on what's wrong with life, and have usually had the attitude of 'ok, this isn't working, I'll do this instead.' PF is one of the biggest or longest challenges to this attitude I've ever had. I feel grateful for the progress so far, and will be for any more in the future, and in the end vigilance does seem a small price to pay. Your lengthy rest humbles me. And to my mind, a mostly painfree life would not equal boring -- except I know firsthand that the eating is boring, but then there is so much more of substance to take interest in! Forgive my mental wrestling all over the place these days --I'm pretty jumpy these days, trying to figure out how to continue the bit of work I can do now and how to continue the progress in general. Here's an example of the jumpiness for you: I went swimming this morning and was taking a breather, hanging on the pool's edge and staring up through the skylights, and when I looked down again a clump of my hair had floated from my back over my shoulder and was wallowing in the water in the front of me, and when I first saw it I shrieked -- thought it was an animal!
Thank you for posting, Robin -- you're helpful as always. --Nancy

Re: Rest worked for me, for the most part

john h on 4/04/00 at 00:00 (018281)

robin: if your hair scared you i am sure glad i did not see it !!

Re: Rest worked for me, for the most part

Nancy S. on 4/04/00 at 00:00 (018266)

Dear Robin, Yes, maybe some version of eternal vigilance and rest when needed is in the cards for some of us. I guess maybe you can tell I'm still trying to accept that, each day. For some reason I thought if I rested for three months, that would mean I'd reached a certain point, And Now, on with life! And it did help, a lot -- but I see resting is not over, and my acceptance of the process is far from complete. For example, when you wrote that for some of us PF is a sort of life marker from which we can recover but 'never again engage in abuse or even neglect' of our feet, I felt sad! Sad that I can't abuse or neglect my feet! i.e., that I can't not think about them, that I can't fly around free as a bird. I don't want to feel this way (sad), I want to transcend it. I want to accept what life throws to me -- I mean do the best I can to work at it and make it better, but then accept the remains and not waste mental energy regretting whatever can't be changed. Maybe this is a part of aging gracefully -- I don't want to grow into someone fixated on what's wrong with life, and have usually had the attitude of 'ok, this isn't working, I'll do this instead.' PF is one of the biggest or longest challenges to this attitude I've ever had. I feel grateful for the progress so far, and will be for any more in the future, and in the end vigilance does seem a small price to pay. Your lengthy rest humbles me. And to my mind, a mostly painfree life would not equal boring -- except I know firsthand that the eating is boring, but then there is so much more of substance to take interest in! Forgive my mental wrestling all over the place these days --I'm pretty jumpy these days, trying to figure out how to continue the bit of work I can do now and how to continue the progress in general. Here's an example of the jumpiness for you: I went swimming this morning and was taking a breather, hanging on the pool's edge and staring up through the skylights, and when I looked down again a clump of my hair had floated from my back over my shoulder and was wallowing in the water in the front of me, and when I first saw it I shrieked -- thought it was an animal!
Thank you for posting, Robin -- you're helpful as always. --Nancy

Re: Rest worked for me, for the most part

john h on 4/04/00 at 00:00 (018281)

robin: if your hair scared you i am sure glad i did not see it !!