February 07, 2009
The Headache
Everyone hates being sick. I mean, duh. Okay, there were a couple of times that I was kinda glad to be sick because it got me out of something that I really didn't want to do. But few things suck more than drowning in your own snot, so I'm going to stand by my opening sentence.
I've had a headache since yesterday. And since I'm a freak of nature, my headaches do not respond to medication. Not Exedrin, not Motrin, not Advil. Nothing, so don't ask.
I think I have some weird sort of deficiency in my body because painkillers never work on me. When I was in the hospital after my surgery several years ago, they gave me a morphine drip that I could control, as long as I waited at least 15 minutes in between doses.
That's supposed to be, like, nirvana, right? A morphine drip? Yeah, but no. The first day, I hit that baby every 15.5 minutes, and it didn't even take the edge off. Didn't make me groggy. Didn't make me hallucinate. Didn't do any of the cool things that really powerful painkillers are supposed to do.
The nurse came in the next day, looked at the machine and asked me why I had stopped using the morphine. So I told her it didn't work. They gave me vicadin, but that just made me dizzy without killing the pain.
Knowing this, I'm glad I never had kids because I would be all about the epidural, and if it didn't work, I would probably take it out on my children for the rest of my life.
Anyhoo, I have one of those headaches that hurts when you bend over. Or move. In any way. And it moves around my head, which is completely retarded and probably not even possible.
It's not a migraine. It's not terribly debilitating -- just enough to be a constant annoyance and remind me that I could be making doll clothes with Joe today but instead I'm remaining perfectly still. It's an I'm-getting-a-cold-and-I'll-be-horribly-sick-tomorrow-if-I-don't-sleep-all-day-today headache.
But I don't mind the pain nearly as much as I mind NOT DOING EVERYTHING I COULD BE DOING RIGHT NOW.
I could be dusting my house because I have two dogs and my house gets visibly dusty incredibly fast. I need to clear all surfaces of tchotchky, wipe them down, and then wipe down the tchotchky before returning them to their rightful places.
I could be vacuuming, including getting the hose and attachment so I can vacuum under the furniture because that's where everything hides that makes my eyes water so badly every morning.
I could be painting a shelf for my guestroom.
I could be lying down that blue rug in my guestroom, which would necessitate lots more vacuuming, and possibly some floor-washing.
I could be writing a real blog entry instead of bitching about my headache and filthy house.
I could be going to Paulina Meat Market or Hot Doug's.
I could be planning our March trip to Wooster, Ohio. Yes, really.
I could be updating my resume so that I can apply for the job I'll be temping in come Monday.
Whenever I don't feel well, I suddenly become Ambitious Girl, and I'm all like, "This could be the day that I start the novel that I'll become famous for, but I can't because I have a headache!"
I would be the suckiest pioneer woman EVER.
I'm so spoiled. If I feel like crap, we'll still eat. I don't need to make the bread and kill the chicken and shuck the peas. I just need to find the strength to throw a pizza in the oven.
The clothes and dishes will get washed, by machines. I don't need to mend Husband's pants because he has five other pairs in the same color. I don't need to weed the vegetable garden or water the livestock. I can just sit around and have a headache.
Which is exactly what I intend to do. And tomorrow, I will clean the entire house top to bottom, including all the cobwebs and inside the closets.
And I wonder why my friends hate coming over.