18/11: I'll have figgy vodka
I'm not sure whether I've blogged about it before but I suffer from gout. Good life, real ale, red meat, yadda yadda yadda. It only strikes about once a year but when it does I get to lie on a lounge and watch TV...constantly. No fun.
However, the interesting thing about gout is that people laugh when you tell them!
ME: I have gout.
THEM: HA HA HA HA! I'm imagining you in an ancient bath chair, with a big white bandage on your foot, your nose red and bulbous and being grumpy! HA HA HA HA.
ME: It's actually really painful.
THEM: Oh, yes, of course, sorry (snigger, snigger, snigger)
And so it goes. You get used to it. Though it was a surprise when my mother did the same thing this morning on the phone.
But then...having left out patients after giving them a small vial of my blood to search for uric acid, I hobbled down to the corner store for some provisions. Gout means you can't wear anything on the affected foot so you have to picture me with a cane, one sock and runner on the right foot and a thong (flip-flop) on the left. The guy behind the counter (who I see most days) asks, concerned, what I've done to my leg. I tell him gout and wait for the inevitable bath chair comment. Imagine my surprise (and delight) when he winces and says "Oh dear. That is very painful!"
You could have knocked me over with a gnat's fart. I was, frankly, stunned. When I said people generally laugh, he explained he had a friend who suffered and he'd hand (almost) first hand experience of it. Oh for joy! Someone who understands.
So. I'm laid up for a few days, foot occasionally throbbing, nothing else throbbing at all. Sex and gout do not go together unless you're a total weirdo freak and, to be honest, I can't see it even if you were. And then a joyful happenstance.
Back in September (my reader will remember this) I went to Oktoberfest. While there I purchased a few bottles of fig vodka (yes, it's vodka that's had figs in it) because it's amazingly delicious. I'd forgotten about them and accidentally came across them last night. My face lit up then the smile ran away as I realised the pain killers I had taken would spoil the experience somewhat. And so, today I have forsworn the pain killers and intend to indulge at lunch. Oh joyous tidings indeed!
Ok, so figgy vodka is probably a good way to worsen the gout but what the fuck.
However, the interesting thing about gout is that people laugh when you tell them!
ME: I have gout.
THEM: HA HA HA HA! I'm imagining you in an ancient bath chair, with a big white bandage on your foot, your nose red and bulbous and being grumpy! HA HA HA HA.
ME: It's actually really painful.
THEM: Oh, yes, of course, sorry (snigger, snigger, snigger)
And so it goes. You get used to it. Though it was a surprise when my mother did the same thing this morning on the phone.
But then...having left out patients after giving them a small vial of my blood to search for uric acid, I hobbled down to the corner store for some provisions. Gout means you can't wear anything on the affected foot so you have to picture me with a cane, one sock and runner on the right foot and a thong (flip-flop) on the left. The guy behind the counter (who I see most days) asks, concerned, what I've done to my leg. I tell him gout and wait for the inevitable bath chair comment. Imagine my surprise (and delight) when he winces and says "Oh dear. That is very painful!"
You could have knocked me over with a gnat's fart. I was, frankly, stunned. When I said people generally laugh, he explained he had a friend who suffered and he'd hand (almost) first hand experience of it. Oh for joy! Someone who understands.
So. I'm laid up for a few days, foot occasionally throbbing, nothing else throbbing at all. Sex and gout do not go together unless you're a total weirdo freak and, to be honest, I can't see it even if you were. And then a joyful happenstance.
Back in September (my reader will remember this) I went to Oktoberfest. While there I purchased a few bottles of fig vodka (yes, it's vodka that's had figs in it) because it's amazingly delicious. I'd forgotten about them and accidentally came across them last night. My face lit up then the smile ran away as I realised the pain killers I had taken would spoil the experience somewhat. And so, today I have forsworn the pain killers and intend to indulge at lunch. Oh joyous tidings indeed!
Ok, so figgy vodka is probably a good way to worsen the gout but what the fuck.