Ugh. You see, i got a killer migraine last night as i watched teeball. I was talking to Sarah when i looked down and it appeared as if my hands were not my own. A tell tale sigh of what is to come.
No WAY!! i thought as i panicked and started to feel a bit of nausea rising in my throat. I shook my hands, as if to somehow tell my brain i had misread the signs.
But alas, no more than 4 minutes later, the lights went out.
I lost my vision on my lower left side--not to be confused with the upper east side--which is a much cooler thing.
Thankfully we only had a few minutes left of the game.
I signaled Jeromy of the impeding doom and whispered "i can't see." Which, the poor guy, has learned to understand as "i'm dead to the world for about 30 minutes until i can see again, so will you take over?!"
We got the kids in the van and i sat in the passenger seat. (not my style, i like to control the wheel) and i just shut my eyes, as i still watched the squiggly lines dance across my eyes lids. Ugh. Its the WORST.
As i sat there, silently writhing in pain, i hear my new mix CD play and felt an indescribable comfort wash over me as i heard Neil Diamond's beautiful voice flow from the speakers.
"LA's fine but it ain't home. New Yorks home but it ain't mine.....no moooooore." I whispered along with him. Finding strength to go on as i felt verbally cradled in Neil Diamonds arms.
Whatever. Its weird. But i kind of obsessively love him. And that's how i felt. Plus, i'm half blind here, people, be a little nicer!!
"I am...I said......to no one there. And no ONE e-VEN heard NOT eventhechair...."
When we got home, I climbed into the tub--hoping to silently drown...err, i mean, to rest.
For some odd reason, after i got out of the tun, i felt the need to make puppy chow in my blind stuper. (odd reason? As IF.)
The kids were in bed, Jeromy went to bed and i lay on the couch. Starting to lose my darn vision AGAIN! But insisting to myself that maybe the puppy chow would help?! Right.
I turned off the tv. Cause who can enjoy it when you can't even SEE the darn thing. Plus, i was watching The Blacklist, something that takes 100% of my undivided attention.
I lay in the dark. Watching the squiggly lines. Feeling like an alien in my stinkin body. Like, i can't explain it--but i just felt odd. Like i was there, but not really. Again, it would have been a better feeling had i discovered it through Margaritaville, yes?
I fell asleep for a moment and awoke the the familiar burning sensation in my left hand mixed with a painful numbness. This headache wasn't getting better and i was just going to have to suffer through it.
I decided to climb into bed. I opened the window at the bottom of my bed and stared at the moonlit night. The wind howled as i thought, Is this is? Maybe this is the end. Crap. I'm dying. Figures.
I didn't sleep much last night as i lay in bed, feeling the crushing pain in my head along with the annoying numbness that just comes and goes.
So this morning, when i woke up. I felt like i was in a scene from a movie where the main character partied a little to hard the night before.
I'm not kidding. My hair follicles actually hurt this morning. My hair is a mess, my eye liner lingered from poor facewashing--you know, since putting my head even close to lower than my heart makes me think it will explode! and i stumbled out of bed in a bit of a Migraine stuper. Junior gave me a kiss and told me he prayed for me last night. His kind words felt like a YELL. And the gentle kiss felt aggressive. Like maybe the act of his lips touching my cheek actually caused my brain to go crashing into my skull.
As i walked around like a drunky, and wondered why this headache hadn't even subsided one iota. I thought again, how lame my body is.
Sometimes i actually have this conversation with my self. "We're a teeeeeam, head. Why do you keep fighting me? What is your problem, man? We can be so much better. We could be invincible together you and me! We're stronger when we work as one. Why the H. E. double hockey sticks, do you HATE me so??
Like the complete psycho that is MY HEAD.....it doesn't even bother to EVER respond to my questions.
I got the kids on the bus. Got Junior in the van and put on the biggest and darkest pair of sunglasses i could find. Although i needed to turn my headlights on--due to the fog--it was still a really bright fog.
I walked into preschool, noticing that my face never seemed to match my attempts at smiling.
As i sit here, i am just annoyed at my stupid self. Like, this has been 32 years in the running, Head. What the heck!!
At any moment in life that may cause any excitement or thrill for me--Boom---shut it down.
Oh, you are excited for your OWN bachelorette party. Going down town with all your friends? Shut it down.
You're playing your tournament softball game for the 27 year in a row and are having a blast?? Shut it down. Lights out.
Going to Milwaukee with your brother to help with a big pressure wedding and its your first time being away from your kids overnight in like 6 years?? What that? You're happy? Shut. it. down. Repeatedly.
My body just keeps doing this. And i am so mad about it.
I'm like a fainting goat, for Pete's sake. Don't anybody dare clap near me---or i'll likely just fall to the ground in a heap of fur and goat hooves.
Like a total winner.
Its like i my controlling head doesn't want me to be happy or to anxiously anticipating anything. I'm only allowed to live in east bethel. Drive on hwy 65 and shop at Target. That is all. Any deviation from that pattern? Shut her down.
Also, don't add any stress to this girls life. Problems with the ex? Lights out. Stress about anything? Goodnight. Fight with a friend over a blog on facebook? Cue the numbness....
Speaking of Jake Morrow.(see how i did that?) I want to quickly have a conversation about that last blog (insert wince). All is perfectly well between him and I. Jake is very much a quality human being and i would pretty much trust him with my life. Soooo, just wanted to get that out there :) Lets say i overreacted. And he responded like a true gentleman. My friend. Jake.
But back to my Mary Kate Olsen-like appearance. Fine!! Mary Kate plus about 100 pounds.
I've got my huge black glasses on, disheveled hair, a coffee in hand and my over sized sweatshirt on, walking out of Panera. ( i lied. It was a perfectly fitting sweatshirt. Cause nothing is too oversized for me.OKAY? Why don't ya just kick when i'm down, already. Geez.)
I got into my car. Head pounding. Frustrating mounting as Panera, of COURSE, didn't have what i wanted,
and i put on my mix CD (that i made. To: Me. Love: Me.) and i gently whispered along with Johnny Cash as his beautiful voice --steady like a train and sharp like a knife--lamented on about that torturous Ring of Fire.
"the taste.....of love is sweet. When hearts......like ours meet......"
So now that i am home with out any kids for three hours, you know what me and my bully of a brain are going to do??
Umm, only what every other respectable human being would do....
I'm gonna draw the curtains, watch Moulin Rouge and fold clothes.
And its gonna be GLORIOUS.....
So if you see me in the street today, please just whisper. 'Cause I went to Migraineville yesterday.....and I'm not yet recovered.