You know I hate to complain, (!!!!!)
but I've had so many migraines this year it is unbelievable. I have gone back on Topamax, I have given up wine, I have taken that giant ax out of my head, and still, more migraines than ever.
I do not know what is causing them, obviously, because at this point I would do WHATEVER IT TAKES to get rid of them. I do not know how people go around with real things wrong with them. I know I say that whenever I go through one of these bouts of pain, but I always think of it. Those of you with fibromyalgia or cancer or some kind of chronic pain? My hat is off to you. Please ignore the hair under said hat. Seriously, do not know how you do it.
So, last night was a doozy, or a lulu, or a dolu, or whatever. I could not lie down, and I could not sit up, because both were nauseating and painful, so I kind of leaned on Marvin while he pressed on both of my temples, and all I could concentrate on doing was taking deep breaths so that I did not cry, because crying makes migraines worse.
Those of you who have read this blog for awhile do not need to guess at what happened next. Oh, yes, he did.
Marvin made his move.
Marvin is inexorably drawn to me whenever I am ill. When I had an emergency wisdom tooth removal? Made his move. When I got the runs after my stepsister's wedding and spent four hours in our hotel bathroom? He got all amorous. When I cut my head open on a succulent plant and had to go to the ER and had my head bandaged up in a turban? He could not have felt hotter and more bother-erd.
As per usual, I do not know what to tell you about Marvin. All he can say about it is, "Well, you're already lying down."
And speaking of dysfunction, you know how people always talk about their dogs–probably their golden Retrievers–and how said dogs are so sensitive to when they're feeling down, and they come right in and sit with them, and their pain is their dog's pain?
While I hunkered in my dark room last night, fending off old Casanova Marvin, I heard Tallulah in the living room, gleefully humping Winston, then after the lovin', she chewed on my White-Out pen like she likes to do, and it hurt too much for me to yell at her. Finally she tore into the bedroom.
"What everyone doing?!"
"Hey! That ice on mom head?" Licklicklicklicklick. "Refresh! We sleeping now? Let Lu make nest." scrape scrape scrape scrape scrape — "Give me blanket, mom. Why you moan?" — scrape. turn turn turn turn "Sighhhhhh." stretch. dig nails into mom's leg. "Zzzzzzzz."
I'm thinking of signing her up to be a therapy dog. Because sensitive? Attuned?
So it was a fun night. And now I am dopey and out of it and I would literally trade heads with Dopey from the Seven Dwarfs if it meant no more migraines.
Anyway. Sorry to be such a complain-y pants. The good news is, I will finish part one of my giant proofreading project today and I get to turn it in. I don't think I have told you I am working for my old workplace. It is for a different department but the person who recommended me was my old boss. So see how smart I was to not divulge everything about why I quit on this here blog?
I had to go there yesterday, to my old workplace, and I checked in with the security guard, and I said, "Hi, I'm June Gardens. I used to work here, and I freelance now with the WhogeldyWhoo Department." And he said, "Well, I know that. You're a good-looking woman. I remember all the good-looking women."
Honestly I could have kissed him flush on the mouth. Once you're 72 you hardly hear that stuff anymore.
Okay, off to finish my task for the WhogeldyWhoo Department. And try try try not to get another dang migraine.