Work ate my brain. My brain is eaten. I have no brain anymore. The Web Experts did it to me again, and for the second year in a row I have been working on a weekend instead of attending
taraljc's lovely Onion Soup party. The Experts so screwed up my schedule and my workload and so stressed me this time that my head a splode. Literally. I was knocked back by a headache which sprang, fully-formed, into the left side of my head with such force, out of nowhere, that when I called my GP and described it to him, he ordered me to the Emergency Room for a CT scan, for fear that I had burst something in my head. Whee. I'm going to start a collection of ER admittance bracelets.
The CT came back negative, and the ER doc "reassured" me by telling me that you know, CTs are only 80% accurate and a small bleed could easily be missed. I asked if maybe there weren't some way to be 100% sure, since, you know, my head might be bleeding on the inside. He said yeah, a lumbar puncture (spinal tap). If it gives you an indication of just how bad this headache was, I was seriously considering letting them do it to be sure. My GP and the ER doc had a conference call and we all decided not to go ahead with that, but that I should return to the ER if anything changed for the worse. So I went home to rest, and went back to work on Sunday. Because I had to.
It's been three days, and I'm not dead, and the headache is better, so we'll assume all is well. This is apparently what they call a "tension headache". I think I will call mine "Athena", because Zeus had to be downing the Advil like Skittles after that little adventure.
In order to re-grow my brain, I need a little fun time, a little down time, a little me time. For many people, this might mean a long bubble bath and a mug of hot cocoa, or a night of dancing and karaoke, or possibly a long weekend of anonymous sex with a variety of well-heeled foreigners in a private retreat cleverly hidden behind the facade of an Indian take-out place.
Er. But, you know, not for me.
( For me, only fannish navel-gazing will do. )
( The Fannish Alphabet )
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The CT came back negative, and the ER doc "reassured" me by telling me that you know, CTs are only 80% accurate and a small bleed could easily be missed. I asked if maybe there weren't some way to be 100% sure, since, you know, my head might be bleeding on the inside. He said yeah, a lumbar puncture (spinal tap). If it gives you an indication of just how bad this headache was, I was seriously considering letting them do it to be sure. My GP and the ER doc had a conference call and we all decided not to go ahead with that, but that I should return to the ER if anything changed for the worse. So I went home to rest, and went back to work on Sunday. Because I had to.
It's been three days, and I'm not dead, and the headache is better, so we'll assume all is well. This is apparently what they call a "tension headache". I think I will call mine "Athena", because Zeus had to be downing the Advil like Skittles after that little adventure.
In order to re-grow my brain, I need a little fun time, a little down time, a little me time. For many people, this might mean a long bubble bath and a mug of hot cocoa, or a night of dancing and karaoke, or possibly a long weekend of anonymous sex with a variety of well-heeled foreigners in a private retreat cleverly hidden behind the facade of an Indian take-out place.
Er. But, you know, not for me.
( For me, only fannish navel-gazing will do. )
( The Fannish Alphabet )