Crystals Light

How fitting it is that my initial post comes on the very day that I want to hack off my left foot, allah (yes, I did this misspelling purposely) the movie "Saw", due to a rather impressive amount of uric acid crystals that have congregated in a joint in the bottom of said foot. Medically, this is called 'Gout'. In real life, it's is called 'For the love of all things Holy and Shitty and everything in between, this motherfucker hurts!' Why is this fitting? Honestly, I don't know. Maybe because pain and writing go hand in hand somehow, eh?



Think on it. I will. If you figure something out, let me know. Otherwise, it's just a stupid segue.



For those who have never experienced this particular joy in life, thank Jesus and the seven dwarves. For those that have experienced this gift from the heavens, can I borrow your saw? Even using a dull butter knife and taking 12 hours or more to free my foot from my leg would be less painful than the misery I am barely tolerating right now.

Don't get me wrong ... there are times when I WANT throbbing appendages. The foot just isn't the appendage I'm picturing, although if the old 'foot/manhood' comparison is accurate I should maybe stop beating myself up (pun intended) and cease the Vienna Sausage jokes.

UPDATE: Okie dokie ... one day later and I wanted to verbally assault a cop, try to steal his gun and steal his doughnut just so I would stand a chance he'd pull his revolver and shoot me, preferably in the foot, to end the pain. Instead, I bit the bullet, so to speak and made a trip to the local urgent care center. There, I was promptly informed that my insurance was no good there. Bastards. So, I hobbled off in pain back to my car and pissedly drove to the nearest hospital emergency room.

One shot in the ass of Naproxen and two prescriptions later, my foot feels a bit better and my stomach is queasy from the medication but I see relief on the horizon. I'm just hoping now that the irritability lasts into Monday morning so that I can stay home again from work. Work, there's another blog for another day. Maybe today, even.

Anyway, here is the lesson learned. Gout sucks. It hurts worse than a catheter, and I've had a catheter too. Work also sucks, but in a different way. Do what you love and love what you do. Life is too short to cater to the whims and fancies of others. Well, except when some dude in scrubs holding a syringe tells to he'd like for you to drop your pants so he can give you a shot in the ass to ease your pain due to gout. Then it's okay to cater ... otherwise, no.