‘What happened to your leg?’ she asked as we walked to her office.
‘My leg?’
‘You’re limping.’
Was I? I looked down.
She was right—and I hadn’t even noticed.
I shrugged.
‘No idea.’
Weeks went by. Turned into months.
The limp worsened. Became bilateral.
There was pain. Sometimes.
Other times? Nothing.
Just the limp.
Doctor’s visit.
Diagnosis: plantar fasciitis.
It wasn’t.
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