Wednesday, September 19, 2012

Hopetember Anyway

What last month did for me was pull hope out of the closet and at least put it on the nightstand.  It's not like I wear it around my neck or anything, but I see it.  I remember it.  And I don't have to look far for reminders of undeniable progress.  In my box of meds right now is the most eletriptan hydrobromide I've ever possessed in my life.  That stuff is platinum in this house because it's a triptan that attacks migraines.  I used to ration it like water in the desert from one month to the next just for survival's sake.  I just took half a pill, and am hoping it will take care of the little knocker I've got going on right now.  Today's less-than-pleasantries could not be avoided thanks to the fact that we live in a house with one bathroom.

Every so often I get to test the hypothesis that I get a migraine when I skip taking a daily nap.  Yep, still true.  I'm not sure what happened, we all pretty much eat the same thing all the dang time, but for whatever reason our plunger failed us today.  And I'm talking, for all the years I've been alive and plunging toilets, I've never failed.  What the September man?  I'm pretty sure I'm going to be sore tomorrow for my efforts there.  Regardless of my failed efforts, I had a plan.  A plan that would still allow for naps.  A plan that would have worked but for the innards of a certain 4 year old cretan.

I left the house, plunger still in commode, to nab the wee child from school.  We evacuated innards at school.  So naturally almost as soon we got home, Sasha had to "go".  And I don't mean polite numero uno either.  Shoot, if that were the case I could have tossed her outside where Indie goes!  So with lunch still on the table I made her grab her shoes and whisked her off to the Starbucks by Home Depot, where, of course she did NOTHING, but I at least got a latte instead of a nap.  Home Depot made me the proud owner of a toilet snake and boom!, problem solved, clog be damned right along with nap time.  And come the evening, the small pain in my head grows and makes my stomach upset.  At least Emily was migraine-free today, praise the Lord.  And of course, we have a place to...read the paper.

I will look at hope before I go to bed, and pray the half-triptan kicks in by morning.  A whole triptan would make me a zombie by morning, and the kids would be late for school.  Then I would eventually feel so good that I'd end up overdoing it and feel worse in the long run and probably have to take MORE meds.  This is life, with no vice for rescue, in various stages of discomfort, pain and tortue, with the occasional August to remind me to pull hope out of the closet and look at it once in a while.  And in looking hard at hope I remember that we will get through this but to what I wonder?  Perhaps looking at it hard with a steely, often cynical gaze does not intimidate it.  It creeps into my soul just the same.

In more exciting news, my baseball team is rocking September, and also I'm thinking of writing a book.  About migraines.

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