Dear Gout,
I’m breaking up with you. I appreciate the time we had together and everything I’ve learned from you, but it’s over; I don’t want you in my life anymore.
Before we met, I'd heard about you. I know you’ve been around, going from person to person–often a single night, but frequently returning to wreak havoc again and again. You came to me in the middle of the night–unannounced and unwelcome. You woke me out of a sound sleep, first showing up as a cramp at the base of my big toe, and then later as a pain so profound you had me wide awake and rolling around in bed.
I used to think you were kind of a joke, Gout. You really should change your name–bring it out of medieval times. I know you’re supposed to be the disease of royalty, what with all the rich food and drink, but why me? I hardly eat any meat. And organ meats? Forget it–they never pass my lips.
Interestingly, the way you affected me was damp, as there was swelling, but it was more cold–there was no redness, and I wanted to put heat on where it hurt. In addition, wherever you decide to roost and cause your own kind of hell, there’s also stagnation, in that nothing’s moving, not the dampness, heat, cold, and certainly not me because of the pain. Needless to say, acupuncture and Chinese herbal medicine will be on my team if you ever show your face again.
So, Gout, I’m writing this letter to thank you for what you’ve taught me. I now understand that you’re not just a stereotype. You’re not just for the rich, steak-eating, martini-drinking members of the one percent. You taught me that you can be attracted to just about anyone, given the perfect storm of circumstances. So, dear Gout, lesson learned. I don’t need you anymore, and to make sure you stay away, here’s my plan:
I understand that you visit only when there is a build-up of uric acid in the body. I know I don’t drink enough to flush it out, and when you came, I had been pretty dehydrated for a couple of days.
I'll drink less alcohol.
And yes, I will be a little more regular with my acupuncture treatments. I know I’ve fallen off recently, and I know how much acupuncture and herbs can help keep you away, so I’m back on board with regular sessions on the table.
Finally, Gout, why me? I don’t have any risk factors for you. No family history, I’m not overweight, not a man, and don’t have any other conditions (cardiovascular disease, diabetes, renal disease). Yes, I’m in the age range you like (over 45), but I’m pretty darn healthy. What’s the deal?
I'd like to think that our relationship was just a brief encounter, Gout. Just a flirtation caused by an unusual combination of circumstances. I certainly take some of the blame in our ill-fated time together, but Gout, it’s over. I never want to see you again.