I felt an itch on my left palm. An odd place for an itch, I thought. When I instinctively scratched it, it wasn't pleasant. It was a little pins-and-needles painful, and I immediately applied mindfulness practice to not scratch it. Scratching an itch is supposed to be pleasant. It's supposed to give relief to an irritation.
For as long as I can remember, I've always had skin particularly sensitive to scratching. Scratching caused my skin to welt, and there wasn't relief, just more itch to scratch. Before mindfulness practice, there were times I would mindlessly scratch until my entire back and arms would be red and welted. Horrific as it looked for anyone who saw it, I never considered it significant and never sought out what was going on medically. Applying mindfulness practice, I would concentrate on the sensation while completely resisting the urge to scratch and just focus on it until it went away. I'd gotten quite good at it. Whenever it reached a point that I knew it wasn't an itch that would get relief from scratching, I stopped and let it go away by itself. In the case I lost patience before it went away, I still have two tubes of Cortizone-10. I can't recall ever having an itch on my palms and can't imagine Cortizone-10 working on it.
So it was a bit annoying when it started up on my right palm as well. There was redness along my palm lines, but it wasn't so bad that it prevented me from doing anything. I was able to plunk away at a bass for supposed "ear-training" practice just fine. It was enough for me to look it up online afterwards to see if it was a symptom of anything. What jumped out was that a burning sensation on palms was symptomatic of cirrhosis and of course my first thought was, "so this is how it ends". My liver's about to fail. But then I clicked on the link and of all the other symptoms of cirrhosis listed, none really rang a bell. At least none which I consider novel. Insomnia? Pfft, that's so last year. I've already used the joke that I'm of Asian descent, so no one would know if my skin was turning yellow.
And since, the sensation has also occurred to the soles of my feet, the feet equivalent of the palms! Oooh! It's irritating. It's annoying. It persists. It comes and goes. If I stretch or scrunch my feet or hands, it's exacerbated and I feel it more intensely for a little while. My bathroom slippers are accupressure slippers and that also intensifies the sensation.
I roll my eyes at this. It's my full expectation that this is not a health scare of either cirrhosis or diabetes, another condition where palms may burn, and will disappear in a few days without fanfare. That's the pattern of everything before that seemed like a health scare. I know better now until it turns out to be something different, and I'll deal with that when it becomes something different.
As it is, I've been off bike for a couple weeks because the plum rains have arrived. This coming week appears like there might be ride opportunities with drier weather and only chance showers, so it'll be a day-to-day thing, but I have zero concern the burning on either my palms or soles will prevent. For the record and no one's interest but my own, only one weekday in May so far was dry and even sunny (I don't ride on weekends when there are too many people on the bikeways), but I knew from experience that it was too cool for the bikeways to have dried out, so I didn't ride, and that suited me fine since it was a mad windy day. Windy is unpleasant, but more of just an excuse to not ride. It's alright because it provides resistance training. Wind resistance slowing me down to 11-12 mph is still less than gravity resistance on hills where I go down to 8-10 mph. And going the opposite direction, the wind assist is great. I was once flying at a sustained 27 mph on a flat because of the wind at my back (translation: wheee!).
As for my liver, I feel like I've cut down on drinking, and since August 2017 I have. Back then I think I was buying six bottles a week. Only one day per week that I didn't. But I thought I had cut back to a schedule where I buy a bottle every three days. Maybe I was on that schedule since then, but recently I noticed that I'm back to buying a bottle every other day, with reserve bottles at home for when I run out. I always have two tiers of reserve (three actually, a desperation back line of mini-bottles!) to make sure there's never no alcohol in my apartment. Again, I'm talking liquor, not beer.
I don't feel like I've increased drinking, but that's what the schedule suggests. When I leave my apartment every day, that's a drying out period, as is sleep. But when I wake up or come home, there are hours before I allow myself to start. But somehow in the time that I allow it, it has increased. I don't feel it, but the schedule doesn't lie. But that's alcoholism. Or my brand of it.
As it is, I've been off bike for a couple weeks because the plum rains have arrived. This coming week appears like there might be ride opportunities with drier weather and only chance showers, so it'll be a day-to-day thing, but I have zero concern the burning on either my palms or soles will prevent. For the record and no one's interest but my own, only one weekday in May so far was dry and even sunny (I don't ride on weekends when there are too many people on the bikeways), but I knew from experience that it was too cool for the bikeways to have dried out, so I didn't ride, and that suited me fine since it was a mad windy day. Windy is unpleasant, but more of just an excuse to not ride. It's alright because it provides resistance training. Wind resistance slowing me down to 11-12 mph is still less than gravity resistance on hills where I go down to 8-10 mph. And going the opposite direction, the wind assist is great. I was once flying at a sustained 27 mph on a flat because of the wind at my back (translation: wheee!).
As for my liver, I feel like I've cut down on drinking, and since August 2017 I have. Back then I think I was buying six bottles a week. Only one day per week that I didn't. But I thought I had cut back to a schedule where I buy a bottle every three days. Maybe I was on that schedule since then, but recently I noticed that I'm back to buying a bottle every other day, with reserve bottles at home for when I run out. I always have two tiers of reserve (three actually, a desperation back line of mini-bottles!) to make sure there's never no alcohol in my apartment. Again, I'm talking liquor, not beer.
I don't feel like I've increased drinking, but that's what the schedule suggests. When I leave my apartment every day, that's a drying out period, as is sleep. But when I wake up or come home, there are hours before I allow myself to start. But somehow in the time that I allow it, it has increased. I don't feel it, but the schedule doesn't lie. But that's alcoholism. Or my brand of it.
