One dark side of living well that people don’t talk about often enough: the fact that I think I have gout right now. In case you don’t know, gout is sometimes known as the “rich man’s disease.” But, in my opinion, I don’t think I should get an illness just for being rich. Sure, I’ve made a dollar or two in my day. Does that mean I now somehow deserve to get arthritis in my big toe?
This whole mess started back when I decided to have filet mignon twice a day for the past twelve years. It was a decision motivated by my constant need to overpower clients and the personal belief that I am invincible. But I was wrong. I apparently am allergic to excessive uric acid consumption. And so after years of cruel treatment, my body eventually said “No. This is too much. I am going to kill you if you keep doing this.”
Now up against incredible odds, I am determined to get this excess uric acid out of my body if it’s the last thing I do. And it very well might be the last thing, because the elective, costly, and “medically unnecessary” surgery I’m undergoing “to get the acid out of my veins” (“Impossible in the human body via surgery” alleges my doctor) could kill me. But if it means I have to suffer the embarrassments of gout for three fewer days than the typical prognosis, then I’ll take my chances. It’s cost versus benefit. Those who doubt my decision should grow a brain.
In the meantime, I nibble on carrots constantly, wide-eyed and limping, determined not to die of gout. Sure, I’ve done some nasty, unprecedented things with money in the past, but that doesn’t mean I now deserve to have my swollen big toe burst through my favorite loafer, does it? I for one don’t feel I deserve to have karma work out like that for me. Nope. Not today.