Rahul walked into my office with a limp. Not the kind where one leans off to a side in pain and needs the support of a stick or a crutch. Here, he needed to raise his right leg high, almost as though he were climbing a step and had to bend the knee to take a step forward. He was unable to flex the ankle such that the heel makes contact with the ground before the rest of the foot does, which is how we normally walk; walking is such a subconscious activity that we barely realise it. Every time he took a step forward the foot came down with a slap to the ground like a blob. Surprisingly, he had no pain.

“When did this start?” I asked, after he settled his heavy frame down into a chair. He was in his early 40s and had curly biceps with tattoos of various Gods extending down to the forearm. I am always intrigued by people who have the ability to permanently ink themselves with a symbol, picture, quote, or anything else that seems relevant to their existence. I once had a patient who tattooed onto his back the screws and rods we placed inside his spine. I have also had the secret desire to tattoo my initials on the scalp of every brain tumour I remove, but I have vetoed that idea as my initials are MT, and when read aloud, would not be a good indicator of someone’s brain status.