Inland, Dreaming of Waves

What we find out late

Amazingly, Todd didn’t need to wait long for his doctor today. And as an added bonus, his knee doctor told him something he’s never heard before.

About his feet—not his knee.

Todd has always had the flattest feet I’ve ever seen. If he lay down on his stomach, bent his knees, and held his feet steady in the air, you could eat sushi off them, or some other elongated finger food. I wrote a poem about them once, which didn’t exactly thrill him. He felt that I was remarking on his imperfection. But I don’t think of it that way. I think of it as an essential feature of Todd.

The doctor asked him if at some point in his life, say, puberty, he began to notice that he ran more slowly than other people. Todd said he had always noticed that, especially when playing Ultimate Frisbee.

No matter how much leg muscle or gluteal muscle he built up, the doctor informed Todd, he would always run slower than other people. It was due to the structure of his feet—there were bones in his feet that were fused, making it impossible for his feet to push against the ground with enough power to generate speed.

I thought it was rather wonderful that his doctor told him that. Finally, Todd, said, he understood why he ran the way he did.

***

My sister once told me of a similar experience she had with her gynecologist/obstetrician.

She has six kids, and the doctor had induced labor for one of them, I forget which. My sister fell asleep after labor had been induced. Now that didn’t mean much to me, since I’ve never given birth, but the doctor was startled. She asked my sister how she could sleep after being induced, and my sister replied, “It’s no worse than my periods.”

That was the same sister who was told by doctors that her horrible cramps were all in her head.

posted by Price of Silence @ 11:56 AM