I can’t remember where I heard the expression – might have been in a movie – but it stuck: after the nuclear holocaust, all that will be left on earth are cockroaches and taxes.
And my fucking headaches. And don’t worry, my mother had me tested…several times…there is nothing wrong with my brain. But every month I get skull-cracking headaches that laugh mockingly at my feeble attempts to throw aspirin at it.
Every. Single. Month. For three or four days without stop.
And every single month the moment comes when I accept that aspirin is not helping. Like I haven’t learnt that lesson 6 million times before. And then I take out the heavier stuff. And it works…for 3.5 hours…before the headache returns.
Some days I just retake the heavier medication until the Four Days of Headache have passed. Some days – when I don’t have much work to finish – I tolerate the pain and give my liver a break from having to digest more of whatever the hell is in the painkillers that can put an elephant on its ass.
Living with pain is like eating an entire meal without salt. You still experience the meal but it’s not quite the same. There is a blandness that completely disallows any intense enjoyment.
No chococino tonight…maybe a few sips of water flavored with some serious painkillers.