Nine out of ten doctors

Early yesterday morning, as I bent over to retrieve a spoon from the kitchen floor, my wife leaned over to fish something out of one of the cupboards above my head. When I stood up, there was a nasty crack as my forehead connected with the corner of the cupboard door she had neglected to close. I looked around to see whether Jill would come tumbling after, before heading off to the bathroom to find something to staunch the flow of blood. Home trepanning. Whatever next?

Ever since the above episode, though, I have had a minor headache follow me around wherever I go. Now unless I am seriously stressed or ill, I seldom get ‘normal’ headaches. On the other hand (apart from the customary five fingers), I get struck down by migraines every so often and my world collapses inward for several extremely unpleasant hours. Why this should be, I can only speculate, but it would appear that fate has decreed that all of my cranial discomfort should be stored up in some sort of biological capacitor until it can let loose with a real head-cracker. The triggers are myriad and work in subtle combinations that I haven’t quite figured out yet, so it’s not always possible for me to prevent periodic bouts of exploding brain syndrome.

I am, however, well acquainted with the tell-tale signs that indicate the imminent onset of a migraine. One of my own personal harbingers of doom is a slight headache, so the past couple of days have been rather distressing for me. It’s a bit like being caught in a bad horror flick, because I keep expecting the monster to pounce…

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2 thoughts on “Nine out of ten doctors

  1. Greetings from another Capetonian blogger (who also lives in Kenilworth) – love your writing, it’s hilarious. See you round – Clare

    Like

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