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seems to happen every year
Saturday, we were having a really nice day. After the kid's nap we went up to the orchard to get a couple of pumpkins, because he's been learning about jack-o-lanterns and wouldn't let it go, and on the way home we stopped at the local park because there was a promotion from the new Lego store at the mall (how they're opening new stores at malls right now I have no idea, but) where they were giving kids free Legos.
Got home and almost immediately a migraine set in. I took ibuprofen as soon as I could and also begged my family to take it easy on me; at the kid's bedtime I successfully convinced him to be extra nice to me, and thank god, because every time he shouted (happily or otherwise) I felt my stomach turn. Got him to bed, felt queasy all night, then Sunday I woke up feeling a little better in the head but wretched everywhere else, spent the whole day oscillating between feeling fine and feeling like my stomach was just sloshing with acid - joy - and by the evening I said to Himself, listen, we need to be aware of the possibility that this is anxiety and it's not going to go away until after the election. :-P By the time the kid was in bed I could feel the whole right side of my jaw setting up like concrete, pressure in my ear, the whole business; I put the hot pack on the side of my face and took some more ibuprofen and also half an ativan before bed. Slept like a stone, didn't dream.
This morning I remembered that Friday, that is, three days ago, was the anniversary of the day my mom texted to tell us the oncologist had said we'd better come home; eight years ago Saturday was the day my dad entered hospice care.
It's impressive to me that I so often have these ~issues~ even when I'm not aware - not consciously, I mean, at the forefront of my mind - of the calendar. Oof.
Got home and almost immediately a migraine set in. I took ibuprofen as soon as I could and also begged my family to take it easy on me; at the kid's bedtime I successfully convinced him to be extra nice to me, and thank god, because every time he shouted (happily or otherwise) I felt my stomach turn. Got him to bed, felt queasy all night, then Sunday I woke up feeling a little better in the head but wretched everywhere else, spent the whole day oscillating between feeling fine and feeling like my stomach was just sloshing with acid - joy - and by the evening I said to Himself, listen, we need to be aware of the possibility that this is anxiety and it's not going to go away until after the election. :-P By the time the kid was in bed I could feel the whole right side of my jaw setting up like concrete, pressure in my ear, the whole business; I put the hot pack on the side of my face and took some more ibuprofen and also half an ativan before bed. Slept like a stone, didn't dream.
This morning I remembered that Friday, that is, three days ago, was the anniversary of the day my mom texted to tell us the oncologist had said we'd better come home; eight years ago Saturday was the day my dad entered hospice care.
It's impressive to me that I so often have these ~issues~ even when I'm not aware - not consciously, I mean, at the forefront of my mind - of the calendar. Oof.
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Which is to say, you have my sympathy.
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