Wow...amazing how we sometimes completely forget the traumas of our childhood. I was browsing through other profiles on here just now and someone commented in hers about how she's walked around on their toes since she was a little'un. Immediately memories flooded back of my preschool through first grade years.
When I was 4 or 5, I started walking around up on my toes. My parents and enough teachers and elders were concerned enough about this that they took me to doctors and specialists all over hell and back. One fucknut actually diagnosed me with cerebral palsey! My parents were devastated, but thankfully persisted in getting a second opinion. The problem was simple. The tendons in my calves were (and to a certain extend, probably still are) too short.
I now vividly remember the tests involving the doctor jamming needles in and out of my legs and running electricity through them. Painful. I probably spent the better part of a year going through daily physical therapy in the form of all sorts of cruel leg stretching exercises involving a big-ass rubber band and a 2x4. And I had to wear braces on my feet like a 1950's polio victim.
I still catch myself up on my toes ever so slightly from time to time.
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