..layers upon layers upon layers..
Woke up in the middle of the night to the most excruciating pain in my left ankle that I have not felt since. I limp across the dark perimeters of my room in search of the estranged pill box which contains the medication that I begrudgingly take to keep things from getting worse. Unable to locate it in my room, I open the door and make that long, agonizing trek across the hallway. I find my pills inside the hood pocket of my backcountry pack next to some hand tape and firestarters. There’s a towel on my yoga mat that I use to wipe the sweat off my face which has now been dampened from sheer exertion. I grab a water bottle from my bike and turn around to make my way back. Upon first step, with the slightest pressure on my left leg, I feel the pain shoot up through my nerves and into the part of my brain that tells me this is more than I can bare. Both my tears and I fall to the ground.
Gout is no joke. It gets going real fast and it hurts like hell. You can manage it pretty well in a controlled environment, but it’s in uncontrolled environments where I live and thrive. I keep my pills in my backcountry pack because I will literally be damned if I ever find myself caught up in the wilderness like that. A young guy like me can’t afford to get caught up like that. Hell, I’m only 25! I enjoy far too much hiking, biking, backpacking, climbing, and yoga to get caught up like that. The strict, drastic dietary changes that I’ve made in my life were all products of me not wanting to get caught up like that. But after all this—after all I’ve taken on and given up—I still find myself getting caught up like that…
On second thought, it is a fucking joke.