14/11/2025
My Apology: The Story of My Foot and My Ego
It feels like only yesterday that I was last spending time in a hospital bed—a place I desperately hoped I'd never have to see again. Yet, here I am, through my own fault, lying in this bed, awaiting surgery for my Morton's neuroma.
For those unfamiliar, allow me to explain the consequences of my foolishness. At the bottom of the foot, we have nerves innervating the toes. When, over time, a foot is held in a constrictive and tight environment (as I forced mine to be), the bones begin to compress these nerves. This constant irritation caused the nerve to swell and thicken. Eventually, it felt like walking with a sharp pebble constantly lodged in my shoe. At its worst, it sent a highly uncomfortable electric shock straight into my toes.
I Can Push Through...? Of course!
This whole saga began when I started training and using the Functional Patterns system. Let me be perfectly clear: Functional Patterns is innocent and had nothing to do with this injury. The blame rests squarely on my shoulders—on my naivety and devastating lack of education.
I bought those barefoot shoes—Five Fingers—and immediately started running in them everywhere. I was "helping" a friend to train people. I always wanted to push boundaries, and I genuinely felt superhuman, believing I could jump into this without a single moment of preparation. I was invincible. Why would I worry? I was working on postural alignment, fascia, and biomechanics!
What an absolute fool I was.
I guess if you believe in something like that, things happen in the way they are meant to. I always hated shoes, even if they were a millimetre larger than my feet, because my parents would always buy me shoes two sizes up, thinking I would grow into them. Additionally, playing football for 20 years didn't help when my foot was squeezed into the boot.
It worked... until one day in 2018, when a new pain started deep at the bottom of my foot. I ignored it. I simply switched back to wearing cushioned shoes, and for a while, I could carry on. I could manage it—unless I walked barefoot on concrete in the summer. I just kept managing, wearing cushioned shoes more and more, only going barefoot for occasional training.
This denial worked until 2019, when I began studying osteopathy. I confessed my symptoms to a qualified osteopath, Chris, in class. He said: "It is Morton's neuroma." I looked it up. All I found was a list of management techniques, with surgery being the inevitable last resort.
The Breaking Point and the Shattered Ego
I managed to carry on until 2023, my fourth year of studies. The stress of exams hit, and my foot flared up. I was suddenly limited to only one pair out of my collection of 40 shoes. As a passionate shoe lover, this was incredibly frustrating—a constant, painful reminder of my failure. I was limping considerably.
To my ego, my pride, this was the ultimate failure. Everything I had worked for, everything I had claimed to fix in my body, had failed! It shook me to the core. Anyone who knows me can attest that I hate admitting I'm wrong—my wife could talk about that for hours... 😊
The flare-up eventually subsided, but my foot never returned to its pre-exams state. I was in constant pain. If I walked too much or landed incorrectly, it felt like stepping on a pin with every single stride. I was carrying two pairs of shoes everywhere if we went anywhere. I was at the peak of my strength, yet I was unable to walk a long distance properly. I felt disabled.
Swallowing My Pride and the Long Wait
It was at that point that I finally began to take things seriously. The word "OPERATION" was now on the table. I tried everything: a lacrosse ball for myofascial release of the whole body, mobilising every joint from my ankle to my neck, photobiomodulation (infrared light therapy), and even TCM treatments. Unfortunately, nothing worked; sometimes, it even felt worse.
I found cryotherapy, which showed a high success rate, but the £2,500 cost was ridiculous for the simple nitric oxide gas they use. Back to the drawing board, where the only viable option was the NHS.
So, I had to swallow my pride and my huge ego and visit my GP, catching myself in the very system I had always desperately tried to avoid. Twelve long months passed until I was called in for an ultrasound to finally locate the "little bastard" in my foot. It's like when they find a kidney or gallbladder stone: tiny, but the mess they can cause. Strangely, I wanted them to find something, otherwise, how could such pain be caused by nothing? How little I knew then.
They offered a steroid injection, which supposedly resolves the issue in 60% of cases if the neuroma is small. It was small, but given the minimal space between my bones, the neuroma felt massive.
In my opinion, the steroid did nothing. I was already highly doubtful, having studied and read research papers on the limited efficacy and long-term results of steroid injections. If you are considering one, please think twice. It has the same efficiency as conservative treatment when it comes to long-term shoulder pain.
That left the only message written in bold, red, capital letters: OPERATION.
The Redemption
So, here I am, 18 months after my initial visit to the GP, lying on a hospital bed with a numb leg.
As I was wheeled into the theatre, Simple Red was singing, "After All the Pain You Caused Me...You'll never know how much you hurt me." It felt strangely perfect and symbolic. That little bastard... 😜
The procedure is done. The surgeon confirmed my suffering, noting that there was basically no space—bone on bone. No wonder the pain was so intense.
It was quite a procedure. They compressed my foot to squeeze the blood out, then inflated a sleeve to keep the foot bloodless, preventing any bleeding. So clever.
Now, I'll be discharged shortly and head home to recover.
It is absolutely up to me now to make this surgery worthwhile and ensure this never comes back. Yes, there's a slight chance of recurrence, but this time, I'm in a completely different mindset. I welcomed this operation, and I know the rehab will go smoothly because I'm finally ready to admit I was wrong and do the work properly.
I'll keep you posted on my progress.
Right now, I'm just going to sit, chill, and meditate.
