What an extreme drag it is getting old, and, having shitty genes on-top-of-it…I, of course, refer to my latest (and most painful) of my conditions: the gout. Not only did I manage to get the Cruise, De Niro, Sandler (not Pacino or Dreyfuss, thank god) genes from my father’s side — but I managed the diabetes and rosecea shit from my mother’s side. And now..the gout…
I haven’t informed my mother yet, because I know that she will just blame it on the alcohol. Now beer is the #1 producer of these purine crystals that get into the left, big toe joint, and, produce a pain that I can liken only to attempting to give birth through your big toe – for up to 6 hours! And I’m not even a beer drinker!? Nor am I a big meat eater (but for some reason, I craved red meat for two months before my first gout attack!?).
So I was out of my gout medication the other night, and 10 Advils didn’t put a dent in the pain. Needless-to-say – it was a sleepless night. And “No,” I didn’t feel like getting up to stick my foot in an ice bath – it was too cold to get out of the guest bed (I’d already gotten out of my bed because I didn’t want to wake Giti with my writhing and thrashing).
It must have been the Thanksgiving feast at Sue’s house – where I thought I could handle a bottle of wine and a shot of Jager each evening we were there (Wednesday through Friday) despite Giti’s warnings that I should not exceed two glasses of wine and pass on the Jager. But what, tell me, relaxes the tummy after a big meal — better than an ice-cold shot of Jager?
Perhaps I should have eschewed my homecoming jacuzzi on Sunday? Perhaps I should have refrained from my 3-mile-walk with Giti?? Perhaps I need a special orthotic insert in my shoe – because something about the arch of my foot seems to aggravate the condition??? Or, perhaps, Dr. G (my former 10th Grade student) is right – perhaps I am carrying too much poundage????
But this most recent bout with gout (this being the fourth attack since late August) – had me recalling my first big , left toe pain…and that was when Big Mitch (my college swimming buddy) cracked my left big toe in retaliation for my fooling around on my Polish, high-school Sweetie (Mitch was also Polish, naturally). And crack my toe he did – with those huge ham hands of his. But I was over that in about-a-week-or-two – merely taping my big toe to the adjacent toe. The “taping” does not work with this gout shit, however – it actually exacerbates the pain.
My gout didn’t start in my left big toe, however – it probably started in my surgically repaired left knee. As-a-matter-of-fact, the X-ray technician who gave me a cortisone shot for my knee pain suggested that I might have the gout. I immediately pushed this suggestion out-of-my-mind; not wishing to add any new conditions to my growing list of ailments.
So now, as I limp around two campuses, a probation officer at one of them yelled out: “Hey! How’s it going Professor Gout?” And I had to acknowledge this reality: that I have, indeed, become Professor Gout.
Ahhhh Mick, you were sooooo right about getting old. But I hear that you have been running 10-miles-a-day and playing 3-sets-of-tennis every day – so I guess you haven’t had to worry about the gout, or your prostate, or erectile dysfunction, or, getting old…