Cobbles

Oh cobbles.

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Most days I go about life, more or less unaware that I have a nerve disease.

And then somedays I walk on cobblestones. And I remember.

The uneven surface of the cobbles is murder on my ankles. I have a real tendency to roll my ankles due to the muscle atrophy I have from poorly functioning nerves. The muscles that stabilise ankles are amongst the first to vanish with CMT.

On Saturday I found myself in boots, without my correcting orthotics inserted (I was a bit too lazy in the morning and just didn’t bother moving my inserts from my trainers to my boots), on a field of cobbles. I was on a mission to visit the Versailles Palace for the first time. But to get there I had to cross a field of cobbles. I found myself aghast at just how unstable my ankles had become. It was not like walking – it was like crossing a mine field, I was wary of every single step I made. Trying to find a “more level” patch of cobble to cross. I succeeded but it was not pretty, and in fact it almost had me in tears.

Dave Waters, a paracanoeist with CMT, wrote that he is scared of walking on grass.

On Saturday, my biggest fear was walking across those cobbles. If I would make it across without an ankle roll. How I would feel after.

I survived. I still feel the after effects and soreness today, Tuesday, three days later. But I did it.

Kind of ironic that my house in London is on a cobblestone street…

 

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