The Worn Soles of My Shoes

Not the Cause of My Pain, But an Aggravator

Estimated reading time: 2 minutes, 7 seconds

“These are my walking shoes,” I said to Dr. Janice M. Meyer, my physical therapist at Keating Physical Therapy, as I pointed out the substantial padding on my Brooks Glycerin 22 shoes. I sat down to untie them, and Dr. Meyer admired the thickness of the sole, especially around my heel. After tucking my socks into my shoes, I stood up, but she asked me to bring them to her before we began our session.

“You have excellent shoes,” she remarked, “but the soles are very worn.” My body slumped like a deflated balloon as I realized the truth in her observation. She pointed out the worn cushioning, especially on the heel of my left shoe. How often do you buy new walking shoes?” she asked. I explained that I usually replace them every six months, but she suggested that I should consider replacing them three times a year. I appreciated her advice, but I had already ordered specialized slippers for plantar fasciitis, and adding another purchase to my tight budget would be challenging.

As I sat on the treatment table, I told her I would buy new shoes that week, and she began to massage my heel and calf. “With a rainy week ahead and the possibility of flooding, you could wait until the weekend,” she suggested.

To change the topic, I asked if she had read Atul Gawande‘s book, Being Mortal. She mentioned that she had not heard of it before. To jog my memory, I attempted to quote Gawande, who describes his book as “riveting, honest, and humane.” I explained that he emphasizes that the ultimate goal is not just a good death, but a good life, all the way to the very end.

Feeling comfortable on the topic, I mentioned that he had conducted research with gerontologists. “One of the ways they can assess the health of their patients is by examining the condition of their toenails,” I explained, pointing at mine. If the toenails are uncut or breaking, it can indicate that the person is unable to care for themselves or lacks the necessary resources to do so.

“Last fall, I started to get pedicures because I found it difficult to bend over and cut my toenails,” I continued. As we wrapped up the session, she remarked, “Your toenails look better than mine.” I joked that I wouldn’t share the name of my pedicurist.

I think I would like to read that book,” she said as I was leaving. “What is the name again?” I replied, “Being Mortal by Atul Gawande.”

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