"If the problem is caused by osteoarthritis then the fluid could be gout. Packaged foods are not good for gout. And if not, at the bare minimum eating well and losing 5 pounds would take some pressure off your knee. Are you sure you want to eat that whole cake?" This was a snippet of the conversation that ensued after having my knee drained by the surgeon today. It seems that after 9 months of being unsure, they may have finally put a name to the problem. Osteoarthritis. No wonder I feel like hell, this is the confirmation I've been waiting for. I'm fucking old. I've deceived myself for years with botox, told myself I don't look my age, confirmed to myself that I look far younger than the girls I went to school with. In my head these facts are all true. But, "arthritis"? Arthritis. There's no running from it anymore. Frankly, because of this, there is no running at all, anymore. Now comes the time for serious work. Concentrating on diet, excercise and general well being, will now be my focus, as I don't have much of a choice. However, as I've mentioned, the pain and depression of this ailment have driven many of my bad behaviours in the recent past, like "Netflix and Cake" nights. In turn those nights are compounding my problem. And causes more pain. Which depresses me and ..... well you get the picture. Tomorrow "Dimpy" and I (that's what we've named the knee - a cross between dimpley and gimpy), will have to come to terms with starting a new life. A more conscious life, with awareness focused on ways to improve Dimpy's performance and being more cognizant of my age. So, yes, I will read more labels and lose 5 pounds but today, I just want to eat the damn cake.
