The Sage Old Shoes

Yesterday I accomplished a major milestone. No, I didn't run or jump or even try snowshoeing. I didn't knit anything or write with a pen, on paper. I also didn't suddenly lose 15 pounds or wake up with normal hair. I purged my shoes. You know, my heels, sandals, ankle boots, loafers, chucks, and hiking boots. Shoes. Shoes that I haven't worn in six years but have held on to in the completely unlikely and implausible chance that I'll break free of the neuropathy, numbness and semi-paralysis. That all changed, unexpectedly, late yesterday morning.

Yesterday, being Saturday, involves completing at least some of the mundane chores around the house, like cleaning. The basement was this week's mission. I started by putting about a year's worth of empty laundry detergent bottles into a recycling bag. While standing by the washer I looked over and saw the dusty rack holding my precious old shoes and thought: It's time. I went back upstairs and grabbed 2 garbage bags, one for the landfill and the other for Value Village (some of these shoes were only worn a few times). I was ruthless. I didn't linger over all the good times we shared. I simply purged. 

Until I came upon a new pair of MEC hiking boots. I bought these in Winnipeg, in February 2015, less than a month before my symptoms began. I believe I wore them once that Spring and that was it. I looked at them closely. They look pretty wide...hmmm, I wonder...

The next thing you know I'm sitting on the stairs yanking the insole out of the boot and taking my shoes off. I take my left afo and start pushing it in -- IT FITS! I don't allow myself to get too excited, but I get pretty excited. I grab my left toes with my right hand (I need to do this so my toes don't fold under) and gently start trying to put my foot in. I hit the side - not lined up properly, try again. This time I'm lined up but my baby toe suddenly got jammed. It's not going to work after all. The boots are wide enough but not deep enough. (Mom you can try them next time you're over;)). I sighed and put my shoes back on. 

As I stood up I realized something I wasn't really expecting. I wasn't sad or depressed at all (well maybe a little about the hiking boots). Instead I felt like a weight was lifted from my shoulders (a weight I didn't even realize I was carrying). The shoes, in a way, were the last reminder of my 'old life' (I got rid of my office clothes years ago) and I think represented the last thread of the possibility of going back there. It hit me then and there what a silly hope that was. I don't want to be that person again, for one thing. I like the 'now' me just fine. Also, I will not be without mobility challenges, ever. And that's just fine too. I'm really not depressed about it, it just is. I can and will keep working to improve and, when that's no longer possible, to maintain the strength and balance that I have. I expect results, not miracles.

I realized that despite it all I love my life and am very happy. There's really not much that I would change. I still have a lot to figure out but for now I'm keeping busy enough to feel fulfilled (on most days, as long as I listen to my body). It was a nice realization to have.

Ciao for now,



The shoe firing line. Fare thee well, good soldiers. (Taken before the vacuuming.)



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