Thursday, June 25, 2009

Insane in da membrane

/shuddering at having used "da", even if in a mock-allusion-title

With that done, onto the subject matter.

I used to get migraines as a teenager. They were nasty. I knew they were coming, because they always followed a set pattern of symptoms...
  1. Black / blurry spots of vision;
  2. Word salad;
  3. Numb mouth on the right side;
  4. Numb right arm; and finally,
  5. The brain pain.
If I took paracetamol very early in the onset of stage 1, I could sometimes avert stages 2 through 5. When this occured, it was glorious. When it did not...I remained pent up in a dark room, sleeping off the agony.

I had not experienced such a migraine since those woe-be-speckly years...until yesterday.

As I was vacuuming, I detected dirty stage 1 creeping in. Granted, it took me a little longer (i.e. running the vacuum over a concentrated area, over and over, "That spot just will not come up, now will it?"). It was upon the initial symptom's discovery, and recognition for what it was, that I made a rookie mistake. A momma-rookie, that is. I weighed up my desire to vacuum, two-handed, while Baby E lolled her head about in response to her bassinet mobile. I considered the fluff balls about the show that were beginning to look like objects. It has been precisely...5 weeks since I had vacuumed (/cough, Baby E's age). It was time. And so, black spots 'n' all, I carried on my way; I'd take the painkillers in a minute. Rookie Momma.

Much like being bitten by a spider, and then being able to scale walls and project webbing from my delayed treatment of stage 1 resulted in a transformation. A transformation that gave me special powers. Oh, and I mean "special" the way you're thinking, Fionna. I had apparently seen to my condition early enough to curtail stages 3 - 5, but I was indefinitely suspended in stage 2. I would have told y'all about it at the time, but it would have read like this:

I am talk weird now lost think maybe sense no.
Sorry, I didn't to? Maybe I later. You mage snens...snes...sencs...sen....

And so on.

I do not make this up.

In fact, I have, for some time, wanted to prove how very salad-y it gets up in here.

I recall once waiting for my mother to pick me up after a netball game, and it was already too late for prevention. I was well into the salad. The friend with me at the time was in hysterics, because apparently I wasn't saying, "What's so funny? I make perfect sense" over and over...reportedly, I would include words of anything within sight into my non-sentence...and only my tone sounded like I was speaking an actual language.

Yesterday I had napped as much as I could, and Baby E was now awake. I tried to watch a show I'd rented ("for freeeeeeeeeeeeee" - said like Adam Sandler in Bedtime Stories), but I couldn't understand what the characters were talking about. I turned it off. I made my way to the computer. What could be more mindless and less mentally demanding than Facebook? Right? Riiiiight?

And that is when I had this conversation with Darcy:


how are you




mostly what?

no caps meant

man, my brain's not working

thing I have a migraine

And that, ladies and gentleman, is word salad.

I was concentrating. Really hard. And that was the best I could do.

I have dissected our online chat, and believe this is what I meant to say:

Mostly good, although I have a migraine.

And then, I didn't intend to use"caps", I was after the term "question-mark" - I didn't mean to use the question-mark after "mostly".

I didn't mean to use the question-mark there.

Oh, and I can't even tell you how long I had to stare at "I thing I have a migraine" before I found why it wasn't right. It hurt my brain. Further.

And so, for a time, like Spiderman, I had very non-sensical, unattractive stuff pouring out of me. Only my stuff wasn't sticky. Or from my wrists. Or as a result of a spider bite. Unless...?

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