There's this awful moment that comes when a person with no immune system is attempting to shake off a cold and various "odd ball things"...
Still clearing up my poor head- attempting to wait out the "Used Imitrex, need more, stupid doctor wants tests first" (Thud thud thud says my head)- I sometimes think the shadow of a migraine and peeling your eyeballs open for calls from mother are worse than the Pain Tidal Wave- (Are you actually getting enough sleep? Are you going off caffeine again? Kid, you sound rough- gee, thanks, Mom.) Answers to those: Yeah, yeah, yeah, definitely not my underwear... (Beth, sweetie, do you need a doctor? Me: Huh?) - Are you serious? Hook me up to a caffeine IV, Mom!- and "Yeah, yeah, yeah..." I'm sure I really assured her. That I'm sort of not quite "with it" at this point, at least. Waiting out a long wait at a restaurant--- I dragged myself out of bed for sunlight and the occasional visit from Mom, I'll do the same for the relatives from Sweden at the beginning of the month... I managed 18 sugar packets, three glasses of orange juice and half a carafe of coffee before the food came (Blessed food, strawberries and all!) and had a rather odd expression on my mother's face as a reward. I think "Yeah, sure, I'm OK" is translated to "I'll break soon, but I don't want you knowing about it."
Today, I slept like the dead, waking only to watch the sunlight, sunset, and to eat graham crackers--- sad to say, the lovely gluten-free ones I tested in January and made cheesecake crust with in March may have changed formula, or else, I'm just not tasting the honey like I used to.
Not wandering in the night like I accidentally did one day, that's a good thing. Score: 100 points, that wasn't fun. And never again shall my bedtime prayer be "Lead me to the rock that is higher than I"- I think I gave myself ideas. Although I meant it in its' most pure form... "Ok, I can't handle this... you, yeah you, you're omnipotent- you handle this, this human is resting", NOT, "Dear Brain, let us be very literal!"
In good news:
-Relearning braids. So far I manage the basic 3 strander well... hands seem to have calmed down. Will try fish tail next. Never mind that at this point, shoulder-length hair (Or just below) becomes two little paint brushes and "You're so cute," and "Pippi Longstocking, all hail!" get bandied about. Also on the list: God as my witness, even if it's only half my hair and the rest is left long, I will grasp the French braid.
I'm alive & I'm grateful for it, and can be silly.
Still, I've seen too many sad people lately, that freakin' hurts. I keep thinking it must be something in the air.