You wouldn't want to walk a mile in my shoes

What do Isaac Newton, King Henry VIII, Charlemagne, Alfred Lord Tennyson, Nostradamus, Leonardo da Vinci and I have in common?
We have known pain and suffering.
I am talking about gout. Painful, inflamed, raw, tender, throbbing gout.
I don't know all that much about "the disease of kings". What I do know is that gout is only slightly more annoying and upsetting than watching Britney Spears lip sync her way through a live concert.
Gout is a form of arthritis, an inflammation that affects the joints and tendons as well as other tissues.
I was diagnosed with the disease shortly after joining Royal Mail. Before the gout kicked in I had the kind of feet hard-core foot fetishists fantasise about. My wife will vouch for that. And no, she's not into any deviant practices. She just knows a good foot a mile away.
Alas! My feet were beautiful once. And odour and fungal-free to boot.

A postman with gout is in for a bad day at the office. Trust me. Delivering mail with a gout afflicted foot is like trying to run The London Marathon in cheap high heels.
When my gout flares up these days I take Dicloflex tablets which relieves the inflammation. Another little capsule, Allopurinol, reduces the amounts of uric acid which can produce kidney stones and gout. Allopurinol helps to prevent the condition but will not ease an acute attack.
It beggars belief that the pharmaceutical giants have yet to find a permanent cure.
Everyday I am bombarded with emails from companies like GlaxoKlineSmith trying to sell me on some or other zinc-based ointment to treat genital warts or Pfizer offering me a substantial discount on Viagra.
They can somehow get to the root of erectile dysfunction but not make any significant breakthroughs in treating a disease which has also plagued the likes of Benjamin Franklin and Alexander the Great? Hmmmm...

Yes, the gout never really goes away. It just lies low for a while. By making certain lifestyle choices I can keep it at bay. If I have a pint too many or happen to gorge myself on Welsh rarebit, I know I'm going to pay for it in the morning.
Cheese and lager - my staple diet - are definite no-no's if I want to avoid those gout blues.
About two weeks ago, however, the life-altering malady returned with a vengeance. I was puzzled. I can't even remember the last time I enjoyed a cold one with my ploughman's lunch.
The Dicloflex and Allopurinol don't seem to be working this time. So I've had to resort to drastic measures.

I'm not one for taking pills. Let's face it. I have enough bad habits. I smoke. I drink. I feign interest when my wife tells me about her day.
The last thing I want is to harbour an addiction to prescription painkillers. But the last few days or so I've been popping Co-Codamol tablets like Smarties.
It has to stop.
I'm not ready to give up on the Carlsberg and Emmental just yet. I'm a glutton for punishment I know. I figure if Alexander the Great could get on with conquering the Persian Empire with a slight hobble, then surely I, Postman Plod, can perform a similar feat?
Come Monday, maybe Tuesday, I'm going to go cold turkey on those pills.

God help me.

FOOTNOTE: According to the About.com: Men's Health website, men account for over 90 percent of all cases of gout.