Sunday, April 18, 2010


It's more color than structure that appeals. When I look at the photos taken at dawn, I find them disappointingly blurry but the hues are lovely. So I played with filters somewhat idly, finally enjoying the way the greens and pastels became stretched and fluid.

Little did I know all would become pinched and searing this morning as a migraine grew on the right side of my forehead. I'd let the house grow too cold overnight, wary of 80 degree afternoons that make it impossible to nap upstairs. But when I plodded downstairs, hand pressed to my head as I searched for coffee and painkillers, I glanced at the thermostat and winced at the 51 degrees displayed.

I flicked on the heat and lit the fireplace, downing 2 Advil and glancing at the clock as I wished the pain away. I loaded the dishwasher and started the laundry, feeling rested but wretched. I curled into a ball on the loveseat and stood fretfully a few moments later, pacing with indecision as the pain became unbearable. I found Tylenol and swallowed two, squinting against the sunlight streaming through windows and doors and making my head throb. I came upstairs slowly, whimpering when I realized I couldn't get my bedroom dark, having replaced the shades with pretty sheers that filtered rather than blocked light.

I rooted through my medicine cabinet, swallowing a Tylenol Cold NightTime and considering a Midol before deciding to wait 10 minutes before taking a sixth pill in one hour. I pulled three pillows from my bed, holding them clutched to my chest as I shuffled to the guest bedroom, pulling aside a fluffy comforter and silky sheets to nestle between.

I tossed and turned, exhaling sounds of misery and feeling my feet shift restlessly as relief from the pain evaded me. I tried to fantasize, recalling that helped some people but could only picture vomitting on some poor man before begging him for painkillers. I attempted to distract myself by thinking about work - various tasks to complete and meetings to attend before moving the pillow and pressing my fingers to my forehead almost hard enough to bruise.

I prayed for relief and felt Sprout's warm weight settle against me before I said Amen. I opened my eyes and stared at him mutely, lifting my hand to smooth his stripey coat and listened to him purr. We rested there together quietly, his whiskers tickling my arm when he moved his head, until I slowly started to drift to sleep as the pain eased, whether by divine or excessive medical intervention.

I murmured when Chienne jumped up to curl behind my knees, feeling the cat tense since his canine sibling has become increasingly jealous and likely to attack him when he screws with her. I opened my eyes, realizing my lower back ached but my head felt OK. So I did a bit of work and read a couple of books. I finished cleaning (well, sort of) and took Chienne for a belated walk. And I have kept the house at a reasonable temperature since the stupid happy sunshine nearly triggered another migraine, tempting me to keep my eyes closed for the last block as I feared the return of pain.

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