I never thought I would be glad to have a doctor find something wrong with me, but I am. And now I’m in love with him.
For three years now, I have been battling what I thought was a stubborn Achilles injury. Three long, frustrating, fuckin’ years. During that time, I have continued to work out, run and complete marathons (because what else was I going to do, sit on the couch?) and I would manage the symptoms of my heel pain with the standard prescription of Advil and ice while flitting around from one doctor to the next trying to find someone, anyone, who could fix me. Instead, all I got from a host of sports medicine docs and podiatrists was useless advice to stay off it and take more anti-inflammatories until it was better. One doctor even told me to quit running. Needless to say, I wanted to punch him in the face. Another told me I needed surgery, which I am highly against. More