I’m going to see Dr Foot again tomorrow morning, and I’m keeping all fingers and all toes crossed. My feet feel fantastic; I’ve been prancing around barefoot on the wood floors, reveling in this feeling the way you breathe through your nose after you get over a cold. I’ll never take this feeling for granted again. Seriously!
The last time I went, I was hoping he’d just say, “looks great, off you go,” and I’d run right out of there on my pain-free feet. Nope! Instead, he recommended another round of the stuff that I’ve forgotten the actual name of because it will always be beetlejuice to me, and I spent the next few days hobbling around with festering blisters on the soles of my feet. 
It wasn’t quite as bad this time, but I was still unable to run for the rest of the week. But once it got better, it got, like, amazingly better. I’ve been dealing with these dumb warts for a year now, and the best I ever felt in all that time was slightly annoying stinging soreness, so actually feeling good is a totally novel sensation. It’s definitely been worth it, and while of course I’m hoping that we’re done, I’m perfectly willing to do another round if that’s what the doctor orders. It’s almost kind of fun picturing these little brutes cowering in fear right this minute. Will I say his name a third time??? We’ll find out tomorrow!
