Wednesday, September 21, 2011

I Am Turning Into Keyser Söze

You know that iconic final scene in The Usual Suspects? The one where Keyser Söze limps off down the road and then slowly un-limps and jumps into a flashy convertible?

I feel like I am living that in reverse. I am walking down the street (looking for the flashy convertible – I’m sure I parked it around here somewhere) and am slowly commencing to limp. And the limp is becoming more and more pronounced.

I went to the doctors yesterday. The pain in my feet is increasing daily. Nasty, immovable corn. Bunions. Calluses. Toes that are folding over themselves like slugs making love. (Note to self: possibly film this for slug fetishists and make a fast (slow?) buck.)

But the entire endeavour was doomed from the start.

Going to the doctors is a lottery. The treatment you are offered is not standard. It depends on the temperament of the doctor you are seeing. As soon as I found out I was seeing Dr W my wife, Karen, groaned aloud, “But she won’t do anything.” She was right. But if I’d held out for the doctor I wanted to see I wouldn’t have got an appointment until the middle of next week and quite frankly I couldn’t wait that long (I was already starting to talk like Kevin Spacey.)

As it happens it was a bad call. I may as well have waited.

Dr W looked at my feet. Not examined. Just looked. And then showed me hers by way of comparison. Seriously. She was pleasant. She was urbane. She told me I had the start of arthritis caused by the bunions. She told me these things are to be expected at my time of life (eh? I’m 42. The very meaning of life, surely?) She told me, “if we were honest there is something we all could do to help ourselves in situations like these” (what, like go to the doctors?). She recommended supportive insoles for my boots but failed to specify which type. She recommended I didn’t go on 10 mile hikes at the weekend (duh!). She recommended I invested money I don’t have into a second pair of work shoes that I could wear when my duties didn’t require me to don my toe-tectors. Basically waste half an hour each day hopping into and out of different shoes depending on what people are asking me to do.

If things got really bad, she said, she could eventually refer me to a surgeon.


Cheers, doc.

She then looked at my feet again and said, “actually, maybe arthritis is too strong a word.”

What? Too useful a word maybe? ‘Cos it might have to go on my record and get acted upon? Or I might demand a note for my boss recommending light duties only? So not arthritis? Just strong pain? Oh great. Yeah. I can live with that. Strong pain, not quite arthritis yet. That makes all the difference.

And that was it.

Consultation over. Nothing that will cost the NHS any money at all – which is possibly a good thing depending on which side of the health fence you are sitting on.

I did my best to reason with her. Look, I said, if this limp continues I’m going to have to shoot my wife and kids in the face just to prove to vicious Hungarian smugglers that there is no way they can ever hurt me. Worse, I may have to piss on Gabriel Byrne.

But she just looked at me blankly and shrugged. She didn’t give a gold plated turd.

So there you go: when the heist goes wrong and you guys all get shot to shit, don’t blame me. ‘Cos I’m the poor guy who’s going to have to limp away afterwards.

And continue limping away for the rest of his life.


Just remember: “the greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world that my foot pain does not exist.”


Rol said...

"And like that... he's gone."

You have my sympathy. Your feet sound like my back. (Minus the slugs.)

Steve said...

Rol: your back and my feet need to get together and form a crime cartel that could earn us billions. Either that or some sort of ugly, freaky chimera that would scare small children and adults of a nervous disposition.

John Going Gently said...


Keith said...

At you time of life ! How dare she ! You are in your prime Steve, your tree shaking, duvet flapping PRIME !

Suzanne said...

That's not very good is it? I find it quite incredible how often I don't go to the Doctors because they don't do anything, and I will find it a waste of my precious time.
I hate feet, but they are ever so useful :)
Hope you find someone to help.

Great film, ('The Usual Suspects' that is and not any that invloves your feet and slugs - ew!)

Steve said...

John: would you like to own it utterly? I could gift wrap it if you like?

Keith: you left out shoe-horn wincing and cobblestone howling.

Suzanne: it has fast become the motto of my wife and I too. But sometimes you just have to go and chance your arm (if not a foot) because, as you say, feet are everso useful! I'd never be able to kick myself without one. Or even two.

Anonymous said...

Your feet need legal representation. Did they smell? Maybe that's why she wasn't keen.

Nice post about your feet.

joebloggs said...

We hit THAT age and it all goes to rats my friend. Your feet, Rols back and my knee......if we can manage a few more wonky parts we could build us a pensioner! oh and did you mention a limp, a limp what?

Steve said...

Dicky: my feet need one of them no win no fee[t] thingies. As for the smell... they smell a bit corny at the moment.

Joe: build a pensioner? Great idea. All we need now is a bad tempered brain to power it. Oh wait a minute, we have three of those already. A limp what, you ask? See the name of the guy who commented above you.

Nota Bene said...

OK you bastard. You've completely ruined that film for me. How could you not put *plot spoiler* at the front of the post. I'm gonna come round and stamp on your toes for that. Jeez I'll never be able to watch that film again......ooops. erm. Sorry to hear about the feet mate.

Steve said...

Nota Bene: stamp on my feet? Too late. I've already chopped them off. That's how hard and Keyser Söze-like I am. See? You cannot hurt me! Ha!

libby said...

Great film. Sorry about the feet situation.....thats helpful advice or anything....welcome to the club of 'you're getting older...get on with it'....there are a lot of us in it.

Steve said...

Libby: do we get free cinema tickets? Or free bingo passes? Something? Anything?

Gorilla Bananas said...

A witch doctor would be more useful than that doctor. Have you tried googling "on-line chiropodist"? If you were in the jungle, I'd hold you upside down by your ankles to take the pressure of your feet.

Marginalia said...

You should have kicked her in the arse. Wouldn't have done much for your toes but I bet your soul would have felt much better.

Steve said...

Gorilla Bananas: I believe Achilles' mother did something similar. Wonder if they had a shit doctor too?

Marginalia: it may even have removed my corn.

the fly in the web said...

What does she mean
'If things got really bad...'?

What does she think they are like now...?

The Sagittarian said...

I think you should go to the vet - they're amazingly clever...their clients don't have to tell them anything yet they still get fixed!!

Steve said...

The fly in the web: maybe she meant if I complained to some sort of medical ombudsman?

Amanda: I don't like the way they take my temperature.

TimeWarden said...

When I mention a few of my ailments to my father, not necessarily to compete with his own numerous collection, he usually recommends a visit to the local GP... whereupon I ask, "what's the point?" for the same reasons you have just so humorously elucidated.

Last time I went to see my Doctor, he asked me what was holding me back, to which I nearly replied a decent diagnosis!

Steve said...

TimeWarden: it annoys me greatly because both the wife and I now leave it a long time before we go to the doctors - usually waiting until the ailments are unbearable in the hope that the doctor will then deign to do something about it... to be given the flick off yet again even at that point is doubly infuriating.

John Going Gently said...

(broke my toe)

Steve said...

John: OOOOOOOOoooouch!

Modern Military Mother said...

Don't give up - keep visiting the DR. Tenacity is the way to win the NHS - it's like a game. He who fights hardest wins.

"No seriously, my feet fucking hurt and I am not leaving until you fix them!!"

Your feet are connected to your soul!! And your sole!! ROFL ;)

The bike shed said...

Not nice, but I reckon your a bit of a sissy.

I once stood on nail that went right through my foot and I only howled when they pulled it out - true. Another time I cut my foot open to the bone in Nepal but that's along story that I think I put on the blog one.

Anyhow, as they say ... man up. Ha ha.

Steve said...

MMM: "No seriously, my feet fucking hurt and I am not leaving until you fix them!!" - can I quote you on that?

Mark: OK. Now I feel a right heel.

Owen said...

Well, you really bared your sole here. Just don't bare anything else, ok ?

Maybe you could learn to walk on your hands ?

Good luck...

Steve said...

Owen: I barely have the balance to walk on my feet...