I went to see my ever- patient neurologist Wednesday. We discussed some of our normal subjects, like complimentary approaches (yoga, food, sleep hygeine, the medical use of marijuana) and triggers (stress and heat). No big surprises; we both wonder fruitlessly about Marinol and there’s just no avoiding the heat.
The surprise came after my neuro exam, when he told me he didn’t think I had any new lesions, but rather that I’d been having a two or three month long migraine.
I told him that was insane. He agreed.
I told him I didn’t even know that was possible. He made a wry little joke about all things being possible with MS.
I didn’t hit him. He apologized.
It turns out that month- long migraines are not impossible, even for normal people, and especially for MS – types of people. The version I seem to have- a middling level of misery that leaps to occasional but dizzying spikes of just-kill-me-now pain- that appears to be pretty common in MS.
I know that being The Girl Who Never Gets A Headache might not seem like much of a superpower, but I was pretty into it. I’d always counted myself lucky for having dodged that bullet.
Whatever. It would have made a lousy outfit anyways. What do you wear? A unitard with a “No- Aspirin” symbol on it? I’m already missing the cape, though. Capes are rad.
So, meds change: most things are the same, adding migraine pills- and my gabapentin dose goes from what the internet informs me was a mere “recreational use dose” to what I guess is a DOUBLE- RECREATIONAL DOSE and should be like eating an entire damned amusement park but instead just makes me feel weird and woozy. And, in retrospect, ripped off.
The double dose is like weed’s misanthropic cousin. I feel dizzy, or dizzy- and- tired, or dizzy- and- tired- and- confused- and I hate food. I can manage liquids- coffee, protein shakes, smoothies- but everything else makes me sick just to see. I diligently make myself something solid to eat, but then I just sit there and stare at it, full of hate. I hate food so much I want to spend hours just sitting around and insulting it.
For example, this peanut butter sandwich makes me sick. It is oozy and disgusting and gross and full of gross stuff and I hate it. I would set it on fire if that didn’t mean I’d have to smell it. It is a disgusting thing of disgusting disgustfullness and it disgusts me beyond all previously known measures of disgust.
This sandwich has turned me into a goddamned pioneer in the Frontier of Disgust, people. That’s how disgusting it is. I’m Manifest Destiny-ing my way into a whole new world of disgust because of this fucking sandwich.
Yeah, so that’s how it is with me lately.
(Many thanks to redjar for the use of his CC- licensed image, 04/11/2004 – lunch for this post. It doesn’t look that bad, redjar, honest. But mine was completely disgusting and I threw it in the trash, so I needed yours. Thanks.)