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Maybe it's just another crazy trick of the internet, but I read something somewhere that booze helps with the pain of RA by destroying some of the proteins the rebellious immune system uses to cause it. I went straightaway and bought a fifth of vodka.
When I got home from the likker store I took a healthy slug of it, and the result was quite strange. It felt like it was cutting through a sort of slime in my mouth (which can't not be good), but it was unsettling when it hit my belly. I don't drink much hard booze. I'm mostly a wino. It was almost like my body was having to adapt to booze all over again.
I went for a walk to see if some light exercise would distract from the hollow, empty feeling I had in my stomach. It actually was sorta empty because I hadn't eaten yet. I had taken some frozen hash brown potatoes out of the freezer and put them into a frying pan to thaw out, thinking that I would cook them up to eat later on. They were still there when I went downstairs to brew my morning cuppa, so I guess I didn't eat at all last night.
My friend Rainey came by after spending the afternoon over at his parent's house trying to help them out in their dotage. One of these days I'm gonna hafta bitch-slap him for accusing me of acting like he does after he spends time over at his parent's house. He's always trying to start an argument about any and every thing. I guess he figures it's his turn to talk after having to hold his tongue for hours.
I was surprised during my tossing and turning while trying to sleep last night that my left shoulder and upper arm didn't seem to hurt as bad as it has for the last week or so. I got up to go to the toilet a couple of times, and I didn't have to be as careful not to twist my left arm in the way that can cause serious pain that evokes brief screams I can't stop from welling up to deal with it. Maybe the booze is working as advertised. Something oughta work. Nearly all of this autoimmune stuff started when I stopped smoking tobacco. My body wants it back.
This morning when I woke up fully it became apparent that things were mo' bettah. The deep pain is still there, but if I forget about it for a moment and act like it's not a problem I pay for it. I had a little bit of a hangover. That's why I stopped swilling booze years ago. One drink can bring a hangover. Two or more can cause misery. NAC (N-acytl cristiene) is supposed to help, and indeed, after I took my morning dose of it I did begin to lose the blahs.
My brother brought his twin grandsons over for a visit yesterday afternoon. I guess it's become somewhat of a ritual when they visit him to bring them over to see me too. I never got to know our other brother's children even though they only lived a half mile away. He accuses me of being like he is and reasonably forbade it.
The twins just had their fourth birthday so they're all grown up now. One of them asked me why I don't keep my house clean. You know how children are. They just parrot their parent's private thoughts as if their own. They didn't have a clue my house is messy until they heard it from their elders. When I told him that it was to keep visitors at bay he looked confused, so my brother told him a gentler lie to ease the truth. No blame.
Tobacco has been on my mind lately. There are fields of it growing all around me. It was the main cash crop in this area since the early part of the last century. That's how the Dukes got all their money and established Duke University. I know all about how to cure tobacco for the consumer market.
I've thought about comshawing an armful of it to cure for my own use. That's all it would take for one person for a year or more. If you bought the same amount in packages or cartons at the store it would cost thousands of dollars, and 90% of that would go to the government. Talk about your value-added marketing. Wow!
There is something very sad about realizing that other people can only accuse me of being like them. I could almost swear they don't realize that they are betraying themselves by doing it. Hell, I know they don't know they're doing it. I hang around with some pretty swift people, and if they're not aware of betraying themselves in real time, who does?
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I do not attempt to tell the God's own truth here because I don't know what the truth is or hardly ever. I try to capture the drifting thoughts that randomly appear in my imagination for reasons I may not understand. I don't know if the content I capture with these words is true or false. The Comments settings are turned off to prevent me from having to defend what amounts to little more than fanciful, sometime crude speculation. Great moments in our lives never return.
