A Stumbling Otis Original
Damn you Gout!
An alcoholic’s battle against an affliction that threatens his disease!
My old man was a good dude— hard working, light-humored and universally loved, wise and respected but of all the wondrous and life changing things he could have passed down to me…. Things like land with oil, Berkshire Hathaway stock or a 12” dick that dirty prick willed me a bad case of GOUT!
Oh gout! Sometimes called gouty arthritis or the “rich man’s disease”; this devil’s lullaby is the accumulation of uric acid in the blood which form razor sharp crystals in the joints. It causes immediate, grotesque swelling and feels like long, lean, red-hot hat pins are being jabbed between the toes though the length of the foot then out the Achilles’ tendon. After that it really starts to hurt. Gout is a real dick.
The largest contributor to a gout attack is diet; primarily foods rich in purines like beef, seafood……. and ALCOHOL, ESPECIALLY BEER!!!
Booze is the big trigger and Im an alcoholic! My name is Stumbling Otis, put it together.
What kind of cruel test is this I ask myself as I ponder my own story– I open my fourth beer using muscle memory as I consider the dichotomy of me? I am Adam with my apple–frosty, cold and cursed. Fuck you Gout!
When you drink like I do this goddamn affliction really affects my life. It commands constant vigil, it dictates stupid choices.
Its 92°, I just finished 3 hours of scooping dog shit, running the weed-eater, mowing the lawn— Imagine the ice cold silk of that first sip of beer rolling over my parched tongue. At the classic bottle pop of vacuum sealed air alone my heart flutters, I gulp a dry cracked gulp. I am Pavlov’s dog. I could empty this first, pure kiss of malt and hops in a single pour. I have a second amber colored bottle already at stand-by….
But if I do drink this beautiful beer I could easily have an attack, especially being dehydrated in the heat- DAMN YOU GOUT!
I have the company credit card, an important client is in town. We spent all day in stressful pricing negotiations, everyone is on edge. We have a dinner reservation at Ruth’s Chris where 4” inch thick steaks melt like butter in your mouth. We are seated, drink orders are taken- despite the knots colonizing my shoulder muscles I order a water, because well I have gout, my mouth drools at the gin and tonic across the table. People are chatting but I cant look away from the perfectly rare steak at the table nearby. It my turn to order dinner, I’m literally dying for a filet…..
But if I get a grass-fed steak I could easily have an attack, especially if I pair a dry glass of red wine, I really should order a Caesar salad– DAMN YOU GOUT!
Sure, there are pills, diets and tonics galore. In fact I drink one every morning—1/4 tsp of sea salt, tsp. of baking soda, 3 tblsp. of organic apple cider vinegar, 8 oz of room temperature water, and one freshly squeezed lemon— it fizzes all over and tastes like pickled goat piss—but I have gout, I need the alkalinity in my blood or I could easily get an attack- DAMN YOU GOUT!
There are preventative pills you can take- my father took them for decades- after 30+ years his feet were paralyzed bricks- medical consensus stated that a side effect of the medication was nerve damage. When I do have an attack despite my stupid-ass diet there are pills I can take to help break the chemical cycle—Indomethicin its called— it works after the first 4 or 5 pills and another 24hr to 30hrs of suffering—of course it makes your gut bleed and gives you explosive diarrhea. By the end of my last attack I looked in the toilet and it looked like I’d just started my period and ate Indian food- DAMN YOU GOUT!
I drink every day, I drink a lot but can I enjoy my libations with reckless pleasure? No I cannot, DAMN YOU GOUT!
Is my moniker Stumbling Otis, my personal brand, my appellation, my agnomen, my nom de guerre, my sobriquet in jeopardy of devolving to just plain ol boring ass Otis …….. Fuck yes it is. Im nothing without my booze and asshole antics. DAMN YOU GOUT!