I KNOW I’m not alone in this particular layer of my weirdness. If I’m reading or listening or watching something that has any type of medical condition involved, I will, the longer I’m exposed to the medium, adopt those symptoms and convince myself I’m doomed. This would be the reason I don’t watch shows like House or any of the reality health channels. It’s never likely to end well.
However, I DO watch the history channel and I read a lot of history. For some reason, Henry VIII has been on my mind. Interesting man. Did you know he suffered from gout when he got older?
Well, lately, my elbow has been killing me. I don’t know why. I’ve not done anything weird with my elbow. But, it’s been painful to do the craziest things – open doors, fold towels, or pull things out of the oven. So, of course, I diagnosed myself with gout. That’s right. No more roasted swan and peacocks for us. And, I vowed to give up my wine with breakfast and all snacks. Still, no relief.
It got bad enough that I started sneaking frozen vegetables wrapped in tea towels into bed with me. (Yes, I know, nothing sparks a 20+ year marriage like frozen corn, but this is a family blog.) Unfortunately, I’m a restless sleeper. The first night I tried this, Mike awoke to his 5 am alarm shrieking (I’d say he was shrieking like a little girl, but as I’ve no experience with little girls, I’ll let it slide) because he thought he was blind when it was only a harmless bag of frozen corn pasted to his left ear and eye.
This experience was enough to get Mike thinking. He called me a few hours later to suggest that maybe we just needed to get a sliding thingie for the keyboard and mouse. As it is, I’m typing at table-top level.
I’m married to a brilliant man. This elbow (forearm, wrist, hand) thing happened once before and the solution was the same. So, whew, I don’t have gout. Bring on the roasted swans. I hope to be back to functional in a few days.