So I get ready to go back to room to read last night after the Ranger game– which they won 3 to 1 over the Royals – and the toe on my left foot is just killing me. And I know what this is: it's a flareup of my gout, for which I take a pill every day so I don't get flareup of my gout. I keep thinking about all those famous kings and queens hundreds of years ago to use to get this and often for long periods of time, and I always thought well, that's really too bad. But I'll tell you, I've got a lot more sympathy for them now. It hurts. We are waiting right now to get a prescription refilled for some pills that I used to have to take when one of these attacks came.
And I've got these various aches and pains in my back, ribs, sometimes upper left of my chest. They just come and go as they please. I'm just resigned to it. All of this crap comes with the territory of a deteriorating bodily constitution. As I approach what has to be jocularly referred to as "the Golden years," I become ever more aware of how important your health, and especially as we know now, your gene pool, has to do with all this. Susan keeps telling me I'm real lucky because I've got "good genes". But I don't give a hoot about my genes or whatever pool they came out of when my toe is throbbing.
Our granddaughter Libby has been staying with us while her parents are enjoying the 20th anniversary trip to Morocco, of all places. And I'm sure she's got have all kinds of tales to tell them about living with a couple of old people for two weeks. It has sure been a delight having her, especially because we get to know her better and vice versa. I assume, perhaps without a good reason, that that is a fairly even trade.