not my comfiest day

Sometimes, as you know, I get nasty headaches. These generally tend to be tension headaches rather than true migraines, but they can affect me just like a migraine or even worse - there's photophobia and oh, man, is there nausea. (But not vomiting, because I haven't actually thrown up since about 1991.) The best thing for these tends to be a combination of rest, cold compresses, warm compresses, hydration, ibuprofen, caffeine, alcohol, stretching, massage, and removing the immediate stressor.

Last night and this morning blah blah some electricity-related stress, but it was actually fixed pretty quickly and easily, so the headache I woke up with should have gone away - but it didn't. It got worse and worse and finally about half an hour after Himself got back from his errands I had to go find him at his computer games and freak out at him. I went to lie down on the bed - I never nap in the bedroom normally; that's what couches are for, and this helps me not have insomnia mostly - and he rubbed my neck and my shoulders and patted my head a bit and then tried to suggest something I could eat or drink that might make me feel less pukey, and when nothing in the house wasn't going to be the worst idea ever, he went out and got me saltines and ginger ale. ♥

Once I started to feel better - and by now I'm feeling quite a lot better, but still wrung out - I tried to think about what such a day would have been like when I lived alone. I wasn't sick (feverish, fluey, anything like that), and the pain I was in wasn't at call-an-ambulance levels, but I was certainly well past uncomfortable for a bit. And I'd have ... just ridden it out and been unhappy, I guess. For longer, because I wouldn't have had someone rubbing my shoulders and bringing me crackers.

It is nice to be taken care of.