It all began when I was dancing. I only wore my heels for two hours before switching to flats. Reasonable enough. But then I danced until 1 am. There is a leading theory that twelve years of full-time retail work leading up to this event and not wearing appropriate footwear for my high arches (apparently), likely didn’t help.

Fast forward to Monday, when I had to drag myself out of bed (literally) for work. My feet screamed in protest as if they were auditioning for a horror movie. Before you tut your tongue at me for going back to work, I would like to take a moment to remind the average reader that I had limited PTO and had used most of it on my wedding. This is where the overlap of health and finances hit hard: the lack of PTO meant I couldn’t afford to stay home to recover, and like many others in non-financially-comfortable situations, I ignored my pain to keep the paycheques coming. I was also an aspiring leader who was willing to lend a hand with another store’s inventory.

Naturally, I did what any self-respecting and hard-working millennial would do – I ignored it until I couldn’t any longer. At a clinic the healthcare provider confirmed that I was dealing with plantar fasciitis, a condition where the thick band of tissue that runs along the bottom of your foot becomes inflamed. He recommended that I drop down to part-time immediately.

Like many people, I didn’t have the financial flexibility to simply stop working, so I had to make hard decisions about how to balance my health and career. My first attempt at self-treatment was misguided. I decided to try taping my feet, thinking that alone would solve my problem. Spoiler alert: It didn’t. At this point my feet are in even worse condition.

Eventually, I did what any sensible person should have done in the first place: I consulted a healthcare foot specialist (podiatrist). They gave me the lowdown on plantar fasciitis, explaining that it often requires a combination of treatments, like taping, stretching exercises, proper footwear, orthotics, pain management, and being off your feet. With a newfound dedication to healing, I embraced the exercises and ditched the one-attempt method. Slowly but surely, my feet began to cooperate. Turns out my left foot is far worse off than my right foot.

But here’s the financial reality of recovery: healthcare costs add up. Fancy orthotic inserts aren’t cheap, and switching careers to accommodate my condition meant taking a pay cut. I leaned heavily on savings and the support of my husband during this time. The longer I took to take all the necessary steps to begin my recovery meant the longer it was going to take me to recover in total. What could have been a nine-month-issue became a two-and-a-half-year-issue. These decisions reinforced the importance of financial planning – not just for fun things in life, but for the unexpected challenges that can derail you.

So, what’s the moral? Don’t be like me, thinking you can outsmart plantar fasciitis with just foot tape and sheer will. Seek professional advice early, and remember that putting pride aside is the best medicine. Whether it’s your health or your finances, life’s challenges require more than stubbornness to keep up with your goals – they demand preparation, adaptability, and support (both footwear and friends). Recovery doesn’t happen in isolation; it’s about having the resources, both financial and emotional, to navigate tough times and move forward. 

Health and finances are deeply interconnected, and taking care of one often means safeguarding the other. So here’s to happy, healthy feet and better planning.