I didn't need any more evidence that my best days are behind me, but if I did, I now have it.
It's gout, which has me dragging my left foot around like a pig-headed puppy on a leash. I had heard of gout before it was mine, but never knew what it was, except that it made painful the joints of - here's the part that is hard for me to accept - old folks.

Really, really painful, I have learned. So painful that I turn off the ceiling fan when I go to bed at night because the breeze feels like a kick. If you want to feel my pain, take a nail and pound it though the joint that connects the left big toe to the rest of the foot. And leave it there for several days.

I am told that there is a pill I can take every day that will get control the gout, but I don't like pills, so I am going with more water and berries, and less red meat and other protein. If it turns out that a Corona Light is to blame, then I will head to CVS.
This bout with gout got me reflecting on what I have managed by staying alive, and that is to grow periously close to being