My curse

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Migraines. I lost a whole day to one yesterday. For those lucky enough not to have these, it feels like a fish hook has lodged above your eye and a barb wire line is trying to pull it down through the back of your spine. Plus all the nausea, photosensitivity and loss of motor skills. I tend to knock myself out with Mercyndol and sleep it off.

Yesterday’s one wasn’t too bad, but I still was unable to do anything except stay in bed. I got up a couple of times, but after walking into a few door frames and tasting bile at the back of my throat when I tried to eat, I gave up and returned to the sanctuary of my bed. The end result was that I got no writing done, for which I feel horribly guilty. I’m making up for it today with a good long session.

The only good thing about migraines is that in my drug-addled state I fancy I have super powers. I can hear things much better and have eyes like an owl. The downside – if I haven’t taken anything for the pain – is that everything is much too loud and too bright. If houses had the option of a sensory deprivation chamber, I would go for one. Unfortunately I don’t have one at the moment so I have to put up with the cars going past on the main road and the light seeping in behind the curtains in my room. When I’m rich I’ll invest in sensory deprivation chambers called ‘Migraine Resoluter Extraordinaire’ and become even more rich. Maybe the drugs haven’t worn off yet…