Feet

I have terrible feet.  They're ugly, and they sometimes give me grief.  
First of all, I have really big feet.  Let's not talk about the size, OK?  I'm a little sensitive on that subject.  
I've abused my feet throughout my life; I never wear shoes unless I have to, so I've stepped on nails, razor blades, and other assorted objects that left scars; one such incident sent me to the emergency room.  I've stepped in all manner of excrement and I've trodden on live snakes.  
I put up with nasty toenail fungus for years until finally I had a podiatrist permanently remove my toenails.  
I told you my feet were ugly.  
I developed a very painful case of plantar fasciitis while I was working at Kohl's; I was on my feet all day, and I had to have some relief.  I went to the podiatrist again and had special inserts made for my shoes.  For the first time in my life, I started putting my shoes on as soon as I got out of bed, because those inserts really did fix the pain of plantar fasciitis.   I was given the impression that once a person has this condition, she has it for life.  
But about three years ago I started going barefoot again.  No pain!  I put the inserts in a drawer.  
Unfortunately, because of the years of going barefoot and stubbing my toes hundreds of times, I have arthritis in my toes and various other parts of my feet.  When the podiatrist looked at x-rays of my feet, he said, "When did you break your toes?"  
"Which time," I asked.  "and which toes?"  
So yesterday, what's left of the arch in my left foot was causing me pain, and I got out the old inserts.  Sometimes they help the pain in other areas of my feet besides my heels.  
The inserts tend to make my ankles twist when I'm not used to using them, not a big deal to me.  Although Cliff, at one point, said, "Take those #@$* things off before you kill yourself."   
Descending the first and steepest hill of our walk, leaves are thick, so it's hard to see everything that lies in the path. In an incident having absolutely nothing to do with the inserts, my right foot stepped on a round stick that rolled with me, causing me to fall with my right foot stretched out straight ahead of me and my left knee totally bent under, with me sitting on that leg.  
Cliff was sure something was broken.  
"I'm not fragile, nor that easily broken," I told him.  "My knee hurts, that's all.  It's a good thing I don't have replacements; this would probably have messed knee replacements up, big time."  
Cliff gave me a hand up and we finished our walk.  My knee pain didn't last long.  
All that came of the incident is a sprained foot and ankle, just enough to take my mind totally off the aching arch I had yesterday.  I'm limping around the house, but I'm fine.  I'd go ahead and go for a walk today if it wasn't raining.  
Meanwhile, Cliff thinks we should go to the walking track at the park for our walks now; it's safer.  
I say, let's wait until I have those fake knees to do that.  It's boring down there!