"Foot Of Pride"

So my foot was hurting so much last night/this morning that I didn't go to class. See, I woke up when my alarm went off (not a difficult thing to manage, since pain had kept me awake most of the night and all I'd managed was a light doze), but the walk from one room of my apartment to the next took almost five minutes and hurt like hell, so I decided to turn my sorry ass around and go back to bed until my foot felt like a foot (rather than a giant lump of stabbing pain) again.

Anyway, my foot is still causing me exceptional pain, so I called my mom (yes, my first reaction to an illness or related problem is to call my mommie. Shut up). Anyway, after chewing me out for not going to class (the first time I've skipped a class since I was a freshman in college, I might point out), she offered up the suggestion that it might be gout (something which my father suffers from in an almost chronic fashion).

This scares me. A lot. First of all, because I don't like not being able to move about by my own two feet. I hate it when my mobility is restricted. Second, the idea of being saddled with something like gout (which even my very healthy father suffers from time to time) worries and frightens me. I don't want this to become some sort of recurring thing.

But mom suggested taking some Advil and drinking lots of water (which ought to flush my system--gout is caused by a buildup of a certain type of acid in your system, and it tends to settle in the lowest part of the body--i.e., the feet). I'm also going to ice my foot some (because it was swollen ridiculously last night). Hopefully by the time I go to work this evening, I'll be able to walk normally.

~chuck

Song of the Moment: Bob Dylan, "Foot of Pride"