It turns out I have this thing called intractable migraines. I won’t bore you with the details of how I found out that lovely bit of information. Let’s just say it involved a migraine so bad I want to rip myself to shreds, Rumpelstiltskin style, never ending vomiting, a hospital, and a douche-y doctor that wanted to give me a spinal tap in case I had meningitis even though he admitted I had none of the symptoms. Fuck that guy…
Anyway. The best thing about intractable migraines is the way they can blindside you with absolutely no warning and last for weeks at a time. To help prevent that from happening my doctor prescribed me a grocery list of medications.
If I start feeling a migraine coming on, I have a caffeine pill that I take. If that doesn’t work I have a muscle relaxer. If that doesn’t work I have a special migraine pill. If that doesn’t work I have something to help manage my nausea. And if that doesn’t work I assume I will vomit so violently I will tear myself in half and can stop worrying about my head hurting.
The nausea pill rarely gets taken partly because the preceding pills work so well. But mostly because one day at work I took the nausea pill and was sitting at my desk trying to feel better. I caught a glimpse of my hand in the reflection of a laminated piece of paper and thought it was a giant fucking spider on my desk. I freaked out trying to get away from it and knocked my bottle of water all over myself. My boss sent me home for the day after that little incident.
The muscle relaxers are the ones that usually do the trick. They don’t make my migraine go away so much as they make me not care that my head hurts. Once, I was texting a friend and he asked how they made me feel and I responded that they made me feel like a “chill as fuck waterfall.” So… whatever that means.
Another time, while on the muscle relaxers, I was at the grocery store with a friend. I told her that my legs were no longer obeying my brain’s commands. She worriedly asked if I needed to sit down and I told her “No, it’s okay. My legs just happen to want to do what my brain wants them to do.” My legs were like, ‘okay, we can go look at Ben and Jerry’s, but only because I want to. Not because you’re telling me to.’ They’ve always been petulant like that.
But really, my favorite muscle relaxer story was the time I went to Savannah with some friends. We were at this flea market and I was so out of it that one of them had to stay with me as a chaperone as I was having trouble walking a straight line.
I found a stall that had a little display case of charms and findings. It said STERLING SILVER $6.
I had the shopkeeper open the case and picked out three things that I absolutely had to have. A thimble, a Tibetan prayer box pendant, and an old Tiffany’s tag. All sterling silver. All utterly irresistible.
I picked them out and handed them to the shopkeeper. I knew these things were worth more than $18. When he saw them he hemmed and hawed and explained that actually, these items were more than $6 each and he had accidentally put them in the wrong case.
I joking replied “Oh, they were $6 but now that I want them they’re more. How much?”
The man snatched them away from me, slammed the case closed and told me they were no longer for sale.
My poor drug addled brain couldn’t process what had just happened. I wanted to buy things. I wanted to give him money for things. And he was suddenly saying no. Those things were already my things in my mind. I had plans for them in my life.
I sat there in shock, trying to make sense of it all. I went to my friend, like a sad child and told her what happened with the things and how much I had wanted them.
My friend approached the man using her very best “concerned psychologist” voice (a special talent of hers). She explained that I was on new drugs and they were affecting me very badly and that I just didn’t know what I was saying. (But I totally did. I really am just an asshole sometimes). She finally convinced the man to sell them to me. For $15.
It was the first time I have ever gotten in trouble and been denied a sale. It was the first time I had ever misbehaved so badly that someone had to apologize for me. It was great.