Body Modification

I've taken the plunge.

After much careful consideration - weighing the pros and cons of what some may consider to be a radical alteration to an otherwise nondescript body part - I have elected to untertake a painful and personal procedure.

This is just for me. While there may be some evidence to the trained eye, most people will never know the secret hidden beneath my clothing.

But I'll know ...
Just walking down a hallway at my office will bring interesting new sensations of pressure and presence of which only I will be aware. Like having a tooth pulled, my thoughts will frequently turn to the unique newness of sensation radiating outward from its source. Pleasure and pain- twin mistresses petulant as pouting children - will tug at my sleeve, insatiable in their desire for my attention, rarely allowing my thoughts to drift far from their influence.

My birth certificate - that document that sought to quantify, label and declare will no longer hold the whole truth of me. Indeed, a crucial evidence of my arrival attested in that document will no longer be correct.

This is no mere cosmetic change I am undertaking. My modifications will go deeper than skin, reaching into very bone and sinew - an evolution of my body parts into a new form never before known by me. My own mother wouldn't recognize them as mine ...

What is this dark secret? Why would I undertake such a change? (Why won't I just get to the point?)

From birth, I've been very flat-footed. My birth certificate clearly shows to longish, flat blobs with toes, where otherwise I'd have properly-formed feet. I'm sure this was quite endearing to my mother, but it makes for quickly-tired legs, among other complaints.

I've recently been measured for orthotics to try an introduce an arch in my feet to combat the improper alignment of my feet, knees, hips and back that have been causing me an increasing level of pain as I have aged. This can be compared to orthodontic braces for teeth, to correct for improper alignment that may cause problems otherwise unrelated to teeth. In my case, trying to align bones in my feet that have been settled in their current position for nearly 36 years is likely to cause a fair amount of discomfort, and my enthusiasm for proper alignment will most likely be severely curbed by the sensation of walking with a golf ball in each shoe. Each day, I am to increase my self-inflicted torture duration by a half-hour until I finally reach the point of being able to tolerate constant contact with my slowly evolving feet.

So perhaps the next time someone suggests to me that I "get bent," I'll be able to tell them that "I already am, thank you."