See that picture? It's by James Gillray depicting gout (the Gout) as he calls it. It's from 1799, back in the days when Ibuprofen and Voltarol would have sounded like Russian city names. It feels just as it looks, a devil driving its teeth direct into the bone. And completely latched on to you. It hurts more than when I dislocated and fractured my hip in a motorbike accident in 1992. I've never given birth but I reckon this comes close to that pain.
Its ruined my new cycling exercise regime. I can't sleep. Yeah it's pushing 8 on the Grumpometer. And the worst thing today? Just making it to the toilet only to find there's barely any loo roll left. There's a roll upstairs. But I just manage on 4 sheets used sparingly. Indignity and pain? It's a double bonus day!
The GoutDevil is snoozng now, driven down by my inactivity and the Voltarol. When it's finally gone i will then set about finding it's nest and wiping it out completely*
Later Mugs, GJ
*Apparently finding the trigger will be pure luck. Well the more I hunt, the luckier I get.
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'the more you shall honor Me,
the more I shall bless you'
-the Infant Jesus of Prague
Jesus, have mercy on our souls.
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