A more constructive meeting with the podiatrist in Bristol this evening, though the news still isn’t great.
This is what I was told during the meeting:
- the nails of the second toes on both feet will shortly fall off. This isn’t a disaster;
- I should consider having them surgically, and permanently, removed or they’ll continue to cause trouble;
- there’s no reason why I shouldn’t run the Fleet half marathon at the weekend, or the London Marathon, but "it might hurt"
- my right foot is going to be more susceptible to blisters because my gouty big toe is forcing me into a slightly unusual running style
- the right foot problem might be helped with a moulded orthotic insole though this would cost about £200
- I need to lance the blisters as each one "has about a teaspoonful of gunk inside"
- don’t run before the weekend race
- that will be twenty eight pounds please sir…
All in all, worse news than hoped, but better news than feared. Worse things happen at sea. Sometimes. Probably.
To help recover from the consultation, and to steady my nerves for tonight’s auto-surgery, there was only one thing for it: fish and chips and a bottle of Chablis.
