I Drink to That

Turning vegan/vegetarian was my way of 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘴𝘶𝘬𝘦 or self-discipline after undergoing an angioplasty.

For the past four years, I haven’t eaten any meat -no pork, no beef, no mutton, no chicken, no hotdogs, nothing that walks or flies or slithers, no wings, no drumsticks, no bellies. The last time I ate meat was during a lighting seminar I gave a big group of landscape architects. Illumined by my talk, the organizers ordered what they may have thought to be most appropriate for their famished guest speaker: McChicken meal. With fries. And ketchup. And coke, watered-down flavor.

My thinking then was if I did, I’d be healthier and live to celebrate Earth day 2121. It did good to 𝘮𝘪 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘻𝘰𝘯 but not to my joints. If you’re a vegetarian and aging, with an overloaded level of uric acid, you’re left with nothing more to eat but paper and cardboard food packagings. Life can be unfair.

Yesterday morning, emerging pain in my right-foot toes was telling me I should expand my 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘴𝘶𝘬𝘦 further. Without taking any meds to prevent a full-blown gout, I tried good ol’ water therapy. All throughout the day, I took eight gulps off my 1-liter tumbler every 15 minutes, my watch as a timer. That and a hundred trips to the toilet, I consumed 4.75 liters in and flushed a hundred liters down. Our water consumption will rise but dang, it worked! By the afternoon, after work, the littler pain didn’t bother my footing anymore when doing practice golf swings in the garage. Today, there’s more water to chug.

For every problem that sprouts, there is a solution that ain’t in a tablet form.

Cheers! #MyCafeNotes #HazardsOfAging