Don’t try this at home, people. Definitely not the way I’d recommend starting your day.
|Image credit: Deborah Leigh|
I’m talking a Mega Migraine, as in ‘OMG morning sun, could you NOT shine so bloody brightly?’ It frikking hurts.
I woke up with an absolute shocker of a headache yesterday. My bladder is generally the organ that wakes me most mornings but yesterday it was my eyes, or more accurately, the ever increasing pressure behind and around them. Jaysus. My head was throbbing something fierce.
I staggered out of bed heading directly downstairs for pain killers and almost immediately regretted it. A huge wave of nausea nearly felled me before I got to the safety of the couch and a more horizontal position. It was another 5 minutes later before I felt ready to risk being upright again.
It was in this state about twenty minutes later – and still in my pajamas – when the doorbell rang and I belatedly realised in horror that this would be the bloke I’d booked to fix our garage roller door. Fark. It was 9.00am and I felt about as glamorous as a day old tea bag.
To his absolute credit, Kev was the perfect workman and didn’t seem at all fazed by my pajama-ed appearance when I answered the door. Instead he was the perfect gentleman, unfailingly polite, spoke quietly (thank god) and got straight to work. Meanwhile, I raced upstairs and in five minutes was showered and dressed, still feeling mortified about being caught in my jammies. I SO hate that.
By the time Kev was done the pain killers were mercifully starting to kick in, so I was able to manage the paperwork and see out of my red-rimmed eyes the demo of the now-working roller door. A quick zip-zap with the plastic card followed by a firm handshake and Kev was gone.
I spent the rest of the day at home (apart from one quick trip for groceries) horizontal on the lounge. And made a mental note to ring the optometrist, thinking my glasses prescription might need to be changed. Or it could be my sinus giving me hell. Either way, I want to fix it!
Do you suffer from migraines? How do you deal with them? And who else’s been caught in their jammies by a tradie? *facepalm*
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