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The Weak A-Head

So, I’m not dead.

I’m not even maimed, or sickly, or lying comatose in a muddy ditch somewhere.

Which is a relief, since that’s how many of my weekends turn out. Especially during football season.

“If I developed a full-blown migraine, I’d probably bury my head in a Zip-loc bag and toss it in the freezer to kill the pain.”

What I did have — and what scrambled up my posting schedule — was a week-long headache. I’ve never had a week-long headache before. I can’t remember ever having a day-long headache before. Nor, frankly, can I recall my last non-hangover-related headache. So a noggin throbbing for seven straight days isn’t something I was quite prepared for.

Also, when it comes to headaches, I’m a whimpering little boo-hoo Nancy boy. I’m not proud of that. But I’m whimpering little boo-hoo Nancy man enough to admit it.

The truth is, headaches bring me to a quivering halt. There’s something about those stabby jabs in the back of the head, the pounding surges in the temples, and the blinding flashes behind the eyes. I’m not even talking about ‘real’ headaches, either. I’ve never had a ‘real‘ headache. If I developed a full-blown migraine, I’d probably bury my head in a Zip-loc bag and toss it in the freezer to kill the pain.

Meanwhile, my aching odyssey began on Sunday evening. A mere twinge at first, I had no idea what was in store. When I woke up on Monday, it was a little worse, and clung to my brain all day like a remora on a great white underbelly.

On Tuesday, I started fighting back. Advil. Aleve. Bayer asprin. I raided the medicine cabinet with extreme prejudice — but with little effect. By Thursday, the headache was still going strong, and I was down to Ex-Lax, NyQuil, and half a bottle of rubbing alcohol. I decided not to go down that road — who needs another prom night? — and resigned myself to the possibility that this headache just might last forever.

At that point, I began guessing what might have caused my predicament. A concussion? Earwig? Brain tumor? Being overzealous with a Q-Tip? None of these seemed likely from what I could remember — but all that thinking made my head hurt worse, so I couldn’t rule anything out. Maybe I’d finally popped that gasket my mother always warned me about.

(But why would I believe her about that? I didn’t go blind, or grow hair on my palms. Why should the ‘gasket’ thing turn out to be true?)

Anyway, long story marginally shorter, the head hurting lasted a few more days — and made the weekend fairly miserable — but finally eased up last night, and I’m more or less back to normal now. Just as persnickety — and verbose, apparently — as ever.

So that’s the story. Apologies to any of you who’ve checked in for updates recently, and found none forthcoming. Hopefully — brain freezes, hangovers, and debilitating aneurysms notwithstanding — things around here will be back on track for a while.

Just in time for Christmas vacation. Bleh. Just thinking about it gives me a headache.

Oh, dammit.