Rumors Of My Rest Have Been Greatly Exaggerated

I usually get by on 5-6 hours of sleep. Mainly between the hours of 5:00 to 11:00 a.m. I start in my OPC (Old People Chair), and then ascend the 13 rail-less basement stairs after I hear The Pony leave for work. My sleep habits have been disrupted by this agonizing pain in the right half of my head.

For a few days, I seemed to be improving. Maybe I was simply staggering my meds of acetaminophen, aspirin, and ibuprofen so that none wore off too soon before the other started. Or maybe I just had a relapse. Anyhoo... I've not gotten much sleep for two days.

Monday night, I was crying with pain while sitting in front of New Delly. NOTHING helped. The aspirin wore off, and the ibuprofen hadn't kicked in. I was almost tearing my hair out. SO PAINFUL!

I settled in my OPC around 2:30, and finally drifted off to sleep when the ibuprofen made itself known. Awake at 5:00, the pain started again. I fought it and fell back asleep until 8:30. Once again, that horrendous pain came back. I went to bed. Lying on my left side did not provide relief as it had before. Nor did lying on my back. I gave up on sleep, and went to the kitchen to sit at the table with HIPPIE.

Farmer H came tromping back from the courthouse, where he'd gone to prosecute Crazy Stick-Road Man over running him off the road a couple years ago. The VIRUS delayed the trial, and Crazy Stick-Road Man demanded a trial by jury. Unfortunately, after waiting all that time, a guy came out and told Farmer H that Crazy Stick-Road Man had pleaded guilty a while back, and the case was canceled. "Sorry nobody notified you." Indeed.

Anyhoo... Farmer H happened upon me crying at the kitchen table. He said he would drive me to the doctor right then, but I hadn't even showered yet. I DID tell him that I'd already made the decision to GO TO CONVENIENT CARE while I was in town. After all, it's in the neighborhood. Does not need a begging phone call to be seen for actual illness, and a drive all the way to Bill-Paying Town. 

Yes. I can't deal with this any longer. It is NOT getting better.

My morning did not get any better, either. When I was talking to The Pony (day off!) while throwing away the paper plate that had held a banana peel and some dry Fake Honey Nut Cheerios, I accidentally THREW AWAY MY FAVORITE PEN!

I didn't realize it until The Pony had gone back to his room after refusing to feel my balls. You know. My NECK BALLS. Those glands under your jaw bone. Which have grown swollen and tender over the past three days.

I grabbed the bill for Farmer H's SilverRedO which I'd written out at HIPPIE. And couldn't find my pen, which I'd laid on that plate to carry around the counter. Sweet Gummi Mary! That meant feeling down in the wastebasket, fishing for it. I LOVE THAT PEN. It's called a Zebra pen. Just the brand name. No stripes. It's a fine point ballpoint. I've had it for years. I think it originally came in a two-pack from the Dollar Store. 

Bending over hurt my head even more. I tried picking some handfuls of trash out, laying them on the cutting block. My pen HAD to be there! Where else could it be? Then I accidentally found it in the empty individual box of Reese's Pieces that The Pony had thrown away.

Finding my pen did not help my head. But the shower did! Unfortunately, I don't live in the shower. It was time for town. 

AND CONVENIENT CARE! Diagnosis to follow tomorrow...