If health care made any sense, the Publix pharmacy would stock running shoes.  

Several years ago I had so much trouble with my left foot that I had to hop to the bathroom first thing in the morning. This discomforted me, troubled the cats and got my wife’s day off to a bad start. I sought medical care. 

The pain was “diagnosed” as plantar fasciitis, which I believe is Latin for “your foot hurts and I don’t see any reason for it.” I put “diagnosed” in quotes because the procedure wasn’t quite as medical as other tests people have put me through in medical offices. Nobody hooked me up to any machines, strapped Velcro to my arm and pumped it up with a little ball, drained off any vital fluids or listened to my insides. I did not have to turn my head and cough. 

The “diagnosis” went like this. I said, “my foot hurts.” The doctors said, “it’s plantar fasciitis.”  

I went to two of them, one for each of my health care coverages, Medicare and Veterans Administration. As I recall, one didn’t even ask which foot was hurting and neither did anything that might cause an educated man to think of the word “examination.” 

Both advised stretching, ice and rest. They also both advised that if I was going to continue running, I should wear the kind of shoes only doctors can afford. This was a lot to think about, but before I did any of it, my left foot quit hurting. The pain just up and went away and for a while life was about as good as it gets for a man my age. 

Then it was the right foot’s turn. This time things got all Marcus Welby with twisting, prodding, two-finger wrestling holds and people in lead aprons taking snapshots from all angles, in the manner of a crime scene.  

And before you know it, I found myself in a doctor’s office at the VA hospital discussing the possibility of an operation to repair my Achilles tendon and debride a bone spur. The VA was all set to provide me with about $15,000 to $25,000 worth of slicing, gouging, grinding and rehabilitation.  

Possibly because he noticed me whimpering, the surgeon did suggest an alternative. “You could try stretching, ice, rest… and getting some running shoes only doctors like me can afford.” (Not his exact words, but close enough.)  

I went from the $19.99 on-sale shoes to the $150 to $180 variety. 

It worked. My foot got better, and I run relatively comfortably. 

So, the question is, if my problem was medical and this fixed it, why is the solution not considered medicine? They do it with some orthopedic footwear; why not running shoes? It certainly makes economic sense. I figure it would take roughly 142 pairs of shoes to equal the price of that operation, and I get about four months out of a pair. 

That’s 46 years’ worth. Even if I were running at 100, the system would still be ahead. The only thing that makes sense is for either Medicare or the VA to pay for my shoes to head off an operation. But you can’t talk sense to those people no matter how loud you yell at them. When you try, they start asking uncomfortable questions about mental health.  

It’s best to just move along. So, I’m stuck with it, I guess. My feet feel fine and the only side effect of this shoe therapy is a little nausea every four months or so. That’s when I see the price tags and feel like throwing up.