But It’s All Over Now
This morning I am foggy and slow to respond. Yesterday afternoon/last night I was felled, once again, by a most Evil Migraine. I’d had one once before, but for some reason, I didn’t recognize the symptoms this time around, or if I did, I dismissed them, like a migraine is chicken pox or mono. I’ve had both of those already. I don’t see why the migraine would need to waste its time on me, granting yet a second personal example of what it’s like.

So I’m putting together a wee story for a local mag and late yesterday afternoon I was sitting here transcribing when suddenly, the sunlight looked all dreamy and funky, its shine radiating to the nth power. Strange lightening-like flashes of light crossed my monitor from left to right; I had trouble looking at them or looking at anything at all. Light flashes? Sudden exhaustion? Slight aching behind left eye? Clearly, the solution was to type out the last of the transcript with my eyes shut. I did wonder if maybe I was going blind. I was going blind and I was spending the last minutes of decent sightedness listening to a local coffeeshop owner’s opinion on the new intersection across from his business.

Looking back, I think the real culprit is Roxette. I’d slowed the minidisc playback down in order to get all the coffeeshop man’s words down, but kept getting distracted anyway by the song that had been playing in the background. At this sluggish-yet-steady pace, it sounded like some drag queen had decided to slow the speed to a level where he could not only lipsync, but actually sing-!, “Touch me now/I close my eyyyes/and dream away...”

I could not not pay attention to this. It was driving me crazy. I was cursing that ‘90s prefab group, cursing Pretty Woman, the movie in which the song appeared and yet I could not tear my ears away. They say the opposite of hate isn’t love, it’s indifference; and I believe that. Indeed, I had to rewind the disc three! times! to force my brain to listen to and type out the owner-guy saying, “But whathappens is people, especially if they don’t knwo the area that well, they’re not aware that they’re int eh wrong right hnad lane.”

These are among the last words I typed, and poorly. The left side of my head, that which controls things like order and sense, was rebelling.

It got worse from there.

And just like last time, I did indeed wonder if I was dying. Wondered how one’s own body can decide to force a person into such unrelenting pain, like it’s bored or mischievous or getting you back for something:
“Hmm. You say you’re planning on going to go see a movie with your friend today. But the other night, you made us watch Seven Brides for Seven Brothers! You can’t be trusted to make a decision!” And so, this night, for revenge or because they’re just tricksy little beings, they - the Head Goblins - decide to stretch out all your inner head-parts out like rubberbands.

I don’t know what happens during a migraine, but that’s what it feels like. That, and then, for extra bonus fun: nausea! All this and I cannot really sleep through the whole thing, just lie there in stillness and darkness and try to pretend I’m somewhere else or that I’m just not anywhere or anything. I am a ghost, I am incorporeal, I am nothing – which sometimes, manages to work for a time, until that church across the street decides it just has to let everyone know another hour has passed –like this is news! In the world! - with its clanging, tolling obnoxiousness. I loved that bell when I first moved in here. Last night, that bell made me cry.

I’m feeling better now, though. Still not really feeling up to actually going out and seeing People or Things. I made the mistake of getting up and going to the UU church this morning, which, in my weird feeble state, felt like some boisterous AME deal. They told everyone to turn and greet their neighbor and my neighbors avoided me. They could tell that the best way of greeting me today was to not fix me with their challenging eyes. And that was a blessing.