Why Do I Even Bother?

Blogs are for whining and complaining, right? Right? Fantastic. Let it proceed.

So yesterday I developed a bad headache that I knew would wind up to be a migraine. I knew because I'm brilliant. Around 9:15 pm, coincidentally right at the moment The Husband walked in on me watching that freakshow "18 Kids and Counting" and said, "What the hell is this?!" I developed said whopper of a migraine. After arguing for 30 seconds about who "the hell" the Duggars were and if, in fact, The Husband had indeed heard of them before that very moment like I know he had, I stumbled to bed. And I didn't sleep until 4:45am. This had to be one of the worst and most painful migraines I've ever had in my life. And not only that, it freaked me the crap out because it didn't hurt in the same places it usually does, cold didn't help it but made it ten times worse, and lying down made it downright unbearable. So I would sit in bed clutching my head until I would pass out from lack of sleep, only to bolt straight upright in bed again 30 seconds later because the excrutiating pain had woken me up. As I mentioned, this went on all. night. long. *

Finally, I got desperate enough that I decided to call the hospital, or more accurately, the Labor and Delivery doctors at the hospital since they love to hear about any complaint you have while you're pregnant. Now, you know my thoughts on hospitals and their effectiveness when it comes to solving migraines. As in, they suck at it. And so it was with great misery and desperation that I called them at 4:30 in the morning. This after avoiding such all night, thinking The Husband would have to miss work and Peanut would starve to death while I was gone, and blah blah blah. I finally stopped caring about my loved ones at all and made the call. I mumbled my problem and the doctor asked a couple of questions and said...wait for it..."Take some Tylenol and call back in an hour if it isn't better." If I could have seen straight I would have driven to the hospital and murdered this doctor. TYLENOL?? OF COURSE! IT'S ALL SO CLEAR NOW. THE WORST MIGRAINE EVER CAN BE SOLVED BY TYLENOL. WHY DIDN'T I THINK OF IT FIRST? BECAUSE I DIDN'T GO TO EXPENSIVE DOCTOR SCHOOL, THAT'S WHY.

But I couldn't see to drive, so I decided to do what she said just out of spite. "FINE, I'll take the damn Tylenol. Stupid doctor. Yes! Tylenol! That genius of medications that solves absolutely nothing! Hooray! *popping of Tylenol in mouth* Just wait you jerks. My brain will be bleeding out of my ear when I show up on your doorstep in an hour, you wait and see. Tylenol. That's the fricking stupidest thing I've been told yet and zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz."

I woke up two hours later to my inner baby trying to kick her way out of my stomach and with the worst migraine of all time, uh, gone. I was left with only a standard migraine. I can deal with that. I know how to handle that kind. That other kind, not so much, obviously. And I missed the one hour deadline to complain to the hospital, too. Damn.

No, I will most certainly NOT apologize to you, Tylenol! Where were you all those years before when I needed you?? Sure, you come riding in on your white steed at the last possible moment before I cram my head into the garbage disposal and claim victory, but that just isn't good enough! It doesn't make up for all the other failures, do you hear me??

Stupid Tylenol.

*In case you're confused, I long ago made a pact with The Husband that my migraine=his sleeping somewhere else. He gets sleep and I get to thrash and writh about in agony without worrying that I'm keeping him awake. Plus I can hog the blankets.