Thanks to everyone who wrote in about my foot procedure on Friday. It was like a trip down memory hearing all of your experiences and suggestions -- New Balances, calf stretches, sleeping with a foot splint, etc. -- but my doctor definitely thought this was the next course of action in my now chronic plantar fasciitis. (Two years plus.) The (four) injections were a tad excruciating -- I actually pretty proud of myself for neither screaming nor crying -- but all in all it went rather smoothly. (In large part, I should mention, because my friend CS not only accompanied me through the whole process, but he did so with homemade molasses-ginger-etc. cookies and designer caramel brownies.) My doctor -- who bears a striking resemblance to Mauricio, Kyle Richards' hunky husband -- says most people know if it worked or not within two weeks. (Keep it elevated, no icing and no anti-inflammatories until then -- just Percocet! -- with the idea being to re-injure the heel in the hope that the healing process works this time, with added help from the best part of my blood, which was retrieved by spinning it in a centrifuge.) I was so hopeless when I started this platelet-rich-plasma-injection odyssey that if it actually ends up working, I'll probably drop to my knees and cry ... undoubtedly injuring myself in the process and having to start all over again somewhere else on my body.