Man, this one is an ass-kicking migraine, and I hope that the the neurologist got to calling in the damned script so it can be delivered tonight.
What I hope like hell isn't delivered is a visit from my mother. No, I am not sick because she is coming; I wasn't feeling too well before she announced she was coming. But like the noise from the upstairs to me sounds like a heard of elephants!!!!!!! Course put together, my upstairs neighbors weigh about as much as an enephant--uncharitable, I know, but when you're sleeping below them, you don't know what is going to come crashing through through the ceiling, or when, and what the fuck they were thinking putting them on the 3rd floor-probably costs them a couple tablets of nitroglycerin.
But no, when I am in a "hypersensitive state," I can't stand to listen to them walk across the floor, it grates my fingernails on chalk....Hell, every sound, every noise, everything grates on my brain like fingernails on a chalkboard. I know I need a ground floor unit for obvious reasons, and I hope to hell they don't put two baby elephants in training above me when I move in 9 months.
To wherever that happens to be.
But the earplugs my Mom got me-in terms of being able to be easy to put in; but Dave's shut out slightly more noise, but as it turns out, only by 4dbl. I wish I could just shut her the hell out. Blinding headache....puking-minimalized by Dr. B who is very forthcoming with refills of promethazine (phenergan)--it's about the only anti-puke medicine that works for me and ever has: all that fanccy shit--the Zofran, all that crap that's like $80/pill, it doesn't do crap.
The migraine sets in & I need to batten down the hatches--Get my Fiorionol refilled, promethezine (liquid form preffered), earplugs, sleep mask, barf bucket in case of emergency..phones OFF....drapes pulled...maybe something for anti-anxiety. Do not disturb sign...(though kids in the building steal them--so do the adults, for that matter); oxygen..........check email later
....Every noise, every sound, it grates on my nerves like fingernails on a chalkboard....and in walks Mumsy dear?
She didn't give a shit how rotten I felt---fucking showed up anyhow, "I've got berries in the car, and they've defrosted."
What? You can't put them in the freezer for another day?
Oh, and all up in my business for shit, she is. It's ridiculous, but I croched a bag for the patches, to keep the un-used ones in, I guess now I have to make one for the fucking garbage, and the bottles of medicine will have to be stripped and taken out to the dumpster straight away....unless I find a hiding place.
Stupid?
Meet my parents!!!!
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