Good Morning, Headache, How are You?

Good morning heartache
Here we go again....
~Billie Holiday


I’ve always been a nerd…a square…a goody two shoes…a geek. Last night when a friend was telling me how she used to get high all the time while in high school I sat there trying not to be judgmental but thinking OMG! I was too much of a Jesus freak in high school to ever consider smoking weed.

I remember the first time someone offered me a joint. I was in the 8th grade. Kim asked me to skip gym class with her. I wanted to be cool. I wanted to fit in so I said okay. If skipping class wasn’t bad enough, she then invited me to smoke a joint with her. When she pulled that thing out of her pocket, I looked at it and hauled my butt off to jump gym class as fast as I could. I didn’t care about the tardy I was going to receive. Our friendship was never the same after that incident.

My next encounter with illegal drugs wouldn’t happen until 12th grade. We were on our senior trip in the Bahamas. My roommates decided to try cocaine. To this day I don’t know where they got it and whether or not they went through with trying it. I left the room.

I’m sharing all of this to say I woke up jonesing for an Advil this morning. It’s the strangest feeling. I would give or do anything (well, just about anything) if I could have just one of those blue liquid-gel caps right now. It’s odd because I have a high tolerance for pain. I’ll purchase a bottle of Advil, take two or three, and the rest will expire before I reach for it again. I normally just grin and bear it.




Last time I was in the hospital I remember arguing with a nurse because I didn’t want to take the pain medication she was trying to give me. Sometimes those nurses are like legalized drug dealers.

--Ms. Smith, I’ve been here all day and you haven’t requested any pain medication.

I’m fine. Thank you.

--Well, we want you to be comfortable. On a scale of 1 to 10 where is your pain?

About a 6.

--I’ll go get something for you.

No, it’s okay. I don’t like how that medicine makes me feel. It gives me weird dreams and nightmares.

--I’ll ask the doctor to give you something else.

I’m okay.

--I’ll be right back.

Now, to me a “6” is nothing. It’s doable. A little discomfort lets you know you’re alive and all your nerves and stuff are working. If it gets to be too much for me, I just fall asleep. I can’t tolerate anything above an “8.” It’s really not the pain that bothers me….it’s the nausea and possibility of vomiting that accompanies it that I don’t like. I will do just about anything to avoid throwing up. So, this is where I am this morning--headache, cramps, nausea…fiending for Advil. I’ll be okay after a large glass of ginger ale.

I wonder if the fact that I watched four episodes of Nurse Jackie before going to bed last night has anything to do with this craving. Hmmmm……