That’s my head not a pin cushion!!!
Not so very long ago in a medical facility not terribly far away there worked a series of dedicated doctors.
These doctors, having tried all sensible treatments to no avail, felt the way to cure a head that pounded and ached for no discernible reason was to give it a reason.
One doctor injected prilocaine into the tender trigger points of his patient’s temples and jaw. The next day the patient discovered that yes, her temples and jaw could hurt more.
One doctor injected steroids into the vertebrae in her neck, causing stiffness and soreness and throbbing and perhaps even temporarily fusing the neck into an immovable column of muscular misery.
Between them, they insured she could not sleep on her left side, her right side, her stomach, or her back. All positions met with angrily protesting head parts.
The doctors assured her the discomfort would pass in a couple of days and long term relief could occur but the patient learned a valuable late night lesson as a result of the injection site soreness.
Make sure you leave one position untouched for sleeping! There are no pillows soft enough to make your head forget a bunch of doctors turned it into a pin cushion.
So the patient, bereft of rest, decided to pen a poorly written fairy tale blog post in lieu of learning to sleep standing up.
Vertigo…
Everything is spinning and I can’t keep anything down.
It’s awful. I don’t want to eat, I don’t want to drink. I can’t close my eyes, I can’t keep them open.
I spend my time caught between trying to keep some crackers down and violently throwing them up.
It started with the latest storm. This awful internal movement in my head, this certainty in my body that I am floating on the wreckage from a ship. Bobbing up and down in the ocean, no solid land anywhere near me.
The room warps and wends in front of my eyes.
It’s horrible.
