The Stabby Toe and the Challenging Gait

I have a neurology physiatrist appointment next Friday and I recommended my doctor to my podiatrist, who has a relative with MS.

But this blog post will be about my podiatrist visit.

I mentioned I felt kind of silly going to the doctor for an achy toe when I knew my work life had changed and my hip was giving me trouble. But three years ago I had a blister in this toe that got infected and I have a tendency to ignore things. And I’m trying very hard not to do that.

My doctor always makes me feel like a kid, in a good way. We had a mutual friend who has since passed away and that mutual friend always said that if he had a daughter he would want it to be me. Maybe that’s why this podiatrist always makes me feel like I’m part of the family. Or maybe he’s just a good guy.

I forget that I’m wearing a mask that reads “Fragile: Handle With Care.” And he’s the only person who has ever commented on it.

“So you’re fragile?” he asks.

“I am fragile,” I admit. “And I try to have a sense of humor.”

He pats my shoulder.

And the next thing he does is hand me a strange orange ball with peach fuzz.

“You can have one of these.”

He tells me a story, about a house for sale on Route 611 with what appeared to be orange trees. He stopped and took some fruit, cut it open, planted the seeds, and put what grew in his yard. He thought maybe they were Bergamot oranges, but soon found a real Bergamot and found out that wasn’t it.

It’s a flying dragon bitter orange. And he likes to give them to patients for their aromatic value.

He still has a private practice, so he can do things like pass out oranges.

I explain what’s been going on with my foot, and that my specialist can’t see me until April or maybe next week. He asks me about my other doctor, because he hasn’t heard of her. I end up writing down her name (and he asks me why I carry so many pens and I answer “because I like colors.”

Now, I 100% expected him to tell me that my toes rub and cause inflammation and pain because I walk funny. Which he did. And he reminded me to keep my big toe and my second toe separated. Which I don’t. But he immediately decided what I described was nerve pain and wondered if some of it might be sciatic or stem from a neuroma or both. And a later Google search informed me that this type of pinched nerve/nerve tumor can be caused by the pressure on the foot caused by wearing high heels, or in my case, natural toe walking.

I was skeptical before he did his exam, but I know he knows his stuff so I kept my mouth shut and listened. When you manipulate the foot in certain ways, you can make the neuroma “pop” in a way that the doctor can feel and/or hear. He thought the neurima would be over by my fourth and pinky toe. And he did feel a little something there. But when he flexed my foot to check for a neuroma below my second and third toe, my foot audibly and repeatedly crackled.

This surprised him.

He explained my options: orthotics (which I would like to talk to the other doctor before we change my walk), cortisone shots, or surgery.

I let him give me cortisone shots. I don’t normally like anything that numbs pain because I believe in the value of pain as a communication signal. But, if the shots work, it would give us a chance to see if the neuromas contribute to my body’s way of compensating for my, as the podiatrist put it, “challenging gait.”

He prepped my foot with great care. The needle was long but super fine.

He inserted it in where he expected a small neuroma to be. When the needle struck the neuroma, it pinched and burned. Not for very long, but very distinct.

He noticed me flinch.

“Did that hurt?” he asked.

“It pinched, and if a starburst had a feeling that would be it.”

He nodded. “You definitely have a neuroma.”

The needle continued its work.

“That feels like you stuck that needle right out the other end of my foot,” I said.

And it reminded me of how I described the symptom: It felt like someone stabbed a knife through my toe to the floor.

He did the second location. No pinching/burning feeling. Just three very small little starbursts.

So we shall see.

The Toe Update

I asked for a table on the left today, because my body was so stiff, my hip sore and my toe felt like someone forced a knife through it and used it to anchor me to the warehouse floor. It happened about every hour, when the clock struck 20-something for some reason and lasted about four minutes as the pain slipped up the inside of my calf and hit my knee.

By 9 a.m., I had had enough. Interestingly, whereas yesterday I did 85%, today I believe I did 95%, and at 9 a.m. I was still about 97%. The left table had alleviated most of the stress on my hip.

I called the neurological physiatrist, and they could see me in April. The person who answered the phone would leave a message for the doctor, and her nurse would give me a call. Now, for the record, I missed that call which was around 4:45 p.m. because I was in an appointment with my chiropractor. But it looks like they may see me next week.

I also called my podiatrist, whose office manager scheduled me for 2:15 p.m. Friday and asked if she had a cancellation if I could come tomorrow. I said yes.

Around this time, a form went around via email asking who might be interested in a day off tomorrow. So I filled out the form.

I rushed home to take off my shoes and socks, and the toe looked fine. Well, red and a little swollen but not as bad as it felt. When I poked my toe and bent them all, my sore toe throbbed for several minutes afterward. So I elevated it.

I could feel the stiffness in my body and the phone kept registering asymmetry. I was very much looking forward to my visit with Nicole Jensen of Back in Line Chiropractic and Wellness Center. Even lying on the table, it felt like my right hip was higher than the other. And when she put her hand against it, she verified that it was. And she pushed on it, like her palm was kneading bread. But in one motion, not back and forth. Okay, maybe the analogy is no good.

We both agreed that the toe thing needed to be sorted out, and that skipping tonight’s workout with Andrew might be best. Nicole manipulated my toe gently, and asked what hurt, and since nothing really bothered me at the angles she was working, she started adjusting my toes. They made some funky noises.

I also feel two inches taller and as relaxed as I can get when she gets done with me…

The predominant theory of what is happening: (according to Andrew, myself and Nicole) I had some intense turning inward of my left leg this week, which may be in part because of a 5-day-a-week work schedule when I’m used to a 4-day schedule in two different jobs versus just one now. Add this to the fact that my table is on the right, forcing me to constantly rely on my right side to move shipments, stand on tip toe to grab boxes and twist to get clothes. When my left leg twists, my right side compensates. And all of this might have caused me to stand forward on my toes more. The added pressure and their curvature made them rub and irritated them and maybe some nerve pain is resulting. And maybe a blister. Or not. Who knows?

But a year ago, I would have horrible pain and difficulty moving. Around the beginning of the year, I started falling. That makes me want to investigate and not take the chance that this toe could start the downward spiral all over again.

Unlike that magic splinter I got. But that’s an old story. Read it here.

Let’s hope the podiatrist has some ideas for prevention and relief.