Infamous Gout Sufferer

“The secrets of old age” is what my mother called all those aches, pains, dribbles, rude uncontrollable noises, and I don’t know what-all.  I think gout must have been one of those “secrets” although she never said so.  Secrets are secrets, after all.

Also secret is whether or not some of those old-age annoyances are catching.  Science may tell us unequivocally “no” but sometimes you have to wonder.  Gout is the case in point in our household right now.  Nyel was diagnosed with that Henry-the-Eighth problem about a month ago.  It was his right wrist that was under attack and his entire right hand and arm-to-the-elbow were affected – red, swollen, painful to the touch and excruciating to move. He was the poster child for a man who had lost his grip – at least with regard to his dominant hand.

Can’t hurt!

Diagnosis involved careful scrutiny by our primary care guy.  And blood tests.  Treatment, which is ongoing, has involved steroids and other meds with fancy names, one of which he will probably need to take forevermore.  The cause, unlike that of King Henry, is not rich foods – we eat very little red meat, no ale or beer or other alcohol for Nyel.  For him, the cause is clear – diuretics that he must take for his heart health.  It’s a pretty straight forward cause and effect.

But, yesterday, when one of the finger joints in my left hand flared up – swollen, red, painful to the point of unbend-ability and I self-diagnosed it as gout, I couldn’t blame any meds or my diet or anything else.  It’s clear to me that gout is a contagious situation – another secret of old age that my sainted mother never shared with me.  Of course, being in the middle joint of my middle finger as it is, could pose a much larger problem.

Popeye didn’t know…

I consider myself fortunate that I am right-handed and that, should it be necessary to flip someone off, I am as yet unimpaired with regard to my digitus medius of choice.  I can only hope that I don’t have the need for a double flip-off while this gout bout lasts.  I doubt seriously if mom ever considered this particular limitation among her secrets.  But… they were secrets after all.