Wednesday, June 06, 2012

Beware of Cussing: BAD Migraine Mood

The Today Show

sinuses
sectioning
off breathing,
ears
pitching
an opera,
neck
grinding
an organ,
menses
stage whispering,
eyes
crossing,
migraine
appearing,
starring
stress.

This is something like the sixth migraine I've gotten since September 2011.  I never used to get migraines.  In fact, the first time I got one, I waited three days before I went to the doc because I figured I had a sinus infection.  I gave in when my eyes started to cross.  That freaked me out.  It must have concerned the doc, too, because she had me try to follow a light with my eyes, and I couldn't.  She sent me to the ER.  They did a spinal tap and I passed out.  Diagnosis: migraines.  Explanation: I'm "at that age," which I think means I'm getting old.  My hormones are whacked (more so than usual), but I'm told I'm too young to be starting menopause.  Then again, maybe I'm just unusual.  Wouldn't be the first time I've gotten the "you're weird" diagnosis.

I should have known Monday morning, when I woke up with my eyes pulsating and I could see the pulse, when my sinuses were screwed up, ears pitching a fit, and my neck was so bad off I could hear it grinding, that I was headed for a migraine because when those four evil amigos band together, I'm in for some serious pain.  Actually, I did know, but I wanted to make it through class.  I figured I would take my meds once I got out.  I did make it through class, but not without pouring sweat (like big beads of it dripping from my head, not my usual "It's so hot I'm going to die in here" overheating), shaking hands, extreme dizziness and nausea, black spots in front of my eyes...yeah.  My students noticed, and they were very helpful.

It's hard to explain what the word "migraine" means to students whose native language isn't English, so I told them it was my allergies making me really dizzy and sick, but I would be okay if I sat more than I usually do.  They were very helpful in passing out papers, erasing the board, that kind of thing.  I got through most of class by being as still as possible and putting my best jokes forward.  Distraction will always yield action, at least for awhile.  If I could just make it out of the building without puking, I would be fine. I have this phobia of puking because I've had too many occasions of starting and not being able to stop.  Feeling like I'm going to barf puts me in a panic.

Wonder of wonders (not) I also started getting cramps and spotting.  At least my period had the courtesy of waiting three-and-a-half weeks before making its grand entrance.  Stress didn't help.  Stress always makes things worse.  Fuck Union Institute and a few others who thrive on screwing with others' lives.  There's no excuse for them.

So now, my paperwork is once again overdue and I have to drive to drop it off. I had planned to complete this already hated task at beginning of this week and get it in on time, in spite of damn Excel sheets being the bane of my existence.  It's kind of hard to do spread sheets when your eyes are crossing. It's a bit challenging to drive when motion make you nauseated and you're seeing spots.  I really resent my paperwork and the fact you either have to mail it in (which, by the time the end of the month hits, there's no time to complete it and get it through the USPS on time), courier it (we don't have courier service from the jail to the admin building, and I'm not about to pay for it), overnight it (let's pay some more for the privilege of teaching) or drive it in.  In this day of electronic communication, I just cannot believe we can't fax or email in attendance and time sheets.  K-12 teachers do it, but apparently, we're the step children of the school system. So this morning, I'm going to complete my spreadsheets, drive them in and hope I don't get pulled over for a DUI or whack another vehicle.

No, I am not in the best of moods and I feel like crying.  In fact, I am crying.  Momentary pity party.  There are people way worse off than I am, but I've earned a few hormonal tears.  Maybe crying will clear my sinuses.  Okay, end of session.  Open Excel and cuss at those fuckingly small cells or enlarge them and lose track of the columns.  Fuck you, Excel, and the Microsoft program you floated in on.  I hope you drown, mother fucker.

P.S As to the rest of you mother fuckers who are getting off on this--I know you are reading this and I know who you are.  I'm not stupid.  You can all GO TO HELL.
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