After a wonderfully low-key weekend, the workweek blew up in my face. We're only halfway through Tuesday, people. At least I didn't have to wield a wet-dry vac today. Yet. My job is lots of things, but boring has never been one of them.
This morning I saw the neurologist and she was awesome. I took a liking to her right off the bat--she's just my kind of eccentric--and after talking to me for almost an hour, she diagnosed me with migraines. Not typical migraines, but migraines nonetheless. I guess I can live with that. She said that she only has a few slots per week blocked off for patients with unusual cases, which is how I got to see her so "quickly," and that these were her favorites because she likes to solve mysteries. She impressed me because she really really listened to all of my wacky symptoms and theories, and said that my inner turmoil stemming from parental phobias and the loss of Niki could absolutely have a hand in bringing the physical pain out. She also gave me a hot tip on where to get the best beer in America (she's German, I think). Anyway, I left with a scrip to try, some coping suggestions and a follow-up appointment in a few months. Additionally, and most importantly, there was just a solid feeling of well-being. Pink hearts, yellow moons, orange stars and green clovers! I don't want to write about my head any more ever again.
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