Feet-like Fins

I’m confused by podiatrists, as I imagine most people are. Nay, actually, I am grossed out by podiatrists, and find the profession as a whole to be entirely creepy. Out of all the doctors I go to, my podiatrist is definitely the skeeviest and the least…well, polished might be a good way to say it. And the nurses. Oh, the nurses. I asked the woman wrapping my foot this morning if she liked what she did, and she responded, “Well, I don’t have a foot fetish like everyone else here, if that’s what you’re asking.”

That’s not what I was asking, but it’s totally what I always thought, and with that kind of evidence, it’s unlikely that it was simply confirmation bias. I mean, if he had wanted to go into medicine for the most money with the least amount of stress, there’s dentistry. Just wanted to help people? Pick your field! General practice! Cardiology! Geriatrics! The possibilities are endless!

It’s just that it’s – well, it’s feet, which doubtless attracts a certain type of enthusiast, yes? And before you bring up the creepy gyno concept, I’ve said this before, but I’m not squicked out by male gynecologists, as my experience has been largely positive, and quite frankly, I see how that could be fascinating and challenging. There are babies involved a lot of the time. And even though I’m not a medical type of person, the female plumbing is pretty nifty, gross anatomy aside (a pun!), what with all the nuances and strange activities and odd goings-on, and I should stop talking about this, because really, I don’t want to describe it any more than is necessary, and I’m pretty sure you don’t want me to either (and if you do, I do not want to know).

My ob-gyn is a dude, and the last time I was there, he was more than a little excited that I could be ovulating at any moment (“Like any second now! Right now you could be ovulating! You could get pregnant tonight!”) as he laid his hand reverently on my midsection and um, bowed his head a little before he started laughing, which is a little…well, it’s weird, and the more I talk about it, the more uncomfortable I get, so let’s forget I brought this up again, mmkay? But still, it’s neat-o stuff, that whole pelvic area with its doo-dads and whatnots, I stand by that at least.

Conversely, there’s nothing fascinating about feet unless you have a specific thing for feet, which is upsetting on a lot of levels, not the least of which is that feet are the least sexual or even sensual or even ATTRACTIVE part of the body, at least to me. While I like shoes okay (I’ve kind of come around a little, maybe. Or at least I’ve started to wear something other than Reefs), it’s not like I ever think of sexing up my feet, and I’ve got to admit, anytime anyone refers to a shoe as “sexy,” part of me is completely perplexed, because while shoes can be attractive and well-constructed (wow, um, that sounds hot, doesn’t it? I might as well have said “sturdy,” which is H O T T), I can’t move past the part where they go on my feet, which are unattractive and completely un-sexy. (My friend Amy, who is a shoe person, is thisclose to ripping my face off, but since she lives in Texas, I’ll risk it.)

That’s right, I said it. Feet aren’t sexy, and I feel like I have the freedom to say that because I like feet just fine; I’m not one of those people who are grossed out by feet. Hell, I think feet are even cute at times, especially hobbit feet (furry!) and God knows, we should appreciate them for their function. Feet are where it’s at, man, when it comes to transportation. And as a person who’s had one foot rendered largely unusable for a while, I’m urging you all to go love on your feet, maybe with some new nail polish or some nice massage lotion, but definitely without any sexual implications, please. Or at least, don’t report those implications back to the group.

But that’s where my love for the feet ends, and I sense that podiatrists, their love runs deeper, maybe along the lines of some sort of high-heel fetish with an orthotic twist, which reminds me of a strange vague memory I have of getting stuck on a channel while Julian Sands had an intimate sexual relationship with a red high-heeled shoe– I think and/or hope that it was at least on someone’s foot– and I can’t believe I’m admitting that. (But, um, does that ring a bell with anyone else? I remember being oddly riveted and entirely confused, because God, what an acting challenge THAT must have been. “You are intimately involved with the shoe. THRUST the shoe. But God, try not to poke yourself!”)

At this point, I really have no idea where I’m going with this, except I’ll leave you with a recent quote from the stellar podiatric nurse as she took my health information:

“I’m writing down that your foot pain is exasperated by frequent use – that means it gets worse as you exercise.”

Outstanding, I tell you. Also, um, if anyone who reads this is a podiatrist and wants to weigh in, I welcome explanations, and I sure as hell know it would make me feel better, because I just grossed myself right the hell out of here. Julian Sands put me over the edge (Um, Boxing Helena anyone? OH MY GOD, Julian! High-heel thrusting and acrotomophilia!)

Wednesday! It’s almost Wednesday! Enjoy that Wednesday to the fullest!

*Cocteau Twins. Of course Elizabeth Fraser comes through in my hour of need.

24 comments June 5th, 2007