Sick

So, illness has hit the Non Stepford home. In the form of cold/snot/flu/migraine. Just a joy, really. Once again, count your blessings that you're not a resident of our fair abode.

The Heathens have been felled, one by one, by fever and snot. Then, it was my turn. A visit to a neurologist on Wed, to discuss the migraine issue, to be followed Thursday eve with the start of, oh guess what! a migraine.

The mother of all migraines, thank you oh, so much.

Now, I'm no inexperienced pansy when it comes to migraines. I've been dealing with them for some *gasp* 20 odd years now. But since RSD hit, they've been getting more frequent, longer, and way, way worse.

The one this week...well, if it wasn't The Worst...I'm scared of how much worse it can get, without my head actually exploding and leaving a heck of a mess for poor Wolf to explain to the kids...and CSI and homicide dicks. Do you think that they'll actually believe that 'my wife's head exploded from a migraine' story? Yeah, I doubt it too. Poor Wolfie.

Anyways, I don't remember Friday. I mean, seriously. I have a dim recollection of talking to a gf while Wolf was out at the pharmacy, and also of taking meds...but that's about it really. According to Wolf, that's about all I did. Bed, shuffle down the stairs, mumble, point, swallow meds, crawl back up the stairs. Throw in some moaning, whimpering, and clutching of head, and that about sums up my Friday, from what I understand. Oh, and add some throwing up in the kitchen sink. I remember that part. Figures I'd remember that part.

To greater illustrate the point, Wolf was getting scared. If I hadn't pulled out of it about when I did, he was getting ready to call for an ambulance.

And just for giggles, that gf I remember talking to...she mentioned something I hadn't considered...the correlation btwn high blood pressure, chronic pain...and high blood pressure and migraines. Followed up on that yesterday with a call to my health link...and got a butt kicking from a health nurse. Next time I get a migraine that doesn't respond to narcotics, I'm to haul butt (or more likely, get my butt hauled) to the ER, pronto. Its a bad bad bad sign of high blood pressure, apparently.

Who knew?

My gf J, apparently.

Well, I'm off. Still not feeling great, have a feverish Tazzie crashed out in my bed, and going to join him.