I was sitting in my car after my grandson's baseball game, and I couldn't get out.
Not because I didn't want to. But because the burning in my feet was so intense, I needed five more minutes before I could walk to the bleachers.
My daughter knocked on the window.
|"Mom, the game's starting."
|"Just... give me a minute, honey."
I watched other grandparents—people my age, some even older—walking normally to their seats.
Chatting. Laughing. Living.
While I sat there, gripping the steering wheel, waiting for the fire in my feet to calm down enough so I could pretend to be normal.
If you wake up every night because your feet feel like they're on fire...
If you've given up walking for exercise because every step feels like stepping on broken glass...
If you've tried gabapentin, Lyrica, or every cream at the pharmacy with no real relief...
If you're watching life pass by from the sidelines because standing hurts too much...
Then what happened next at my neurologist's office could finally end your suffering—because a nurse pulled me aside and changed everything.