Headaches

I have spent this entire weekend and most of Friday with a pounding headache. Excuses have been delivered my way with regularity by people who really care and are trying to help, and they normally fall along the lines of: “Oh yeah, that’s just a hormonal headache… I remember when I got those when I was pregnant, they sucked.” Now as generous as these people are for attempting to diagnose my ailments and the causes of, I still can’t shake that feeling of “I don’t care what the hell is causing them, because they still hurt.”

I guess that my patience level for this kind of pain has worn down with time. I’ve had migraines for a good portion of my life and they have killed many a day, and at times week for me. I feel totally unable to accomplish the things that I set out to do, for I am not only hurting but physically tired because I’m fighting it all day.

I awoke this morning with a much milder headache than I went to sleep with last night, which was a pleasant surprise. It’s still there, I can feel it trying to make a comeback in the back of my skull and right behind my right eye ball, but I am attempting to hold it at bay with HAPPY THOUGHTS! No, I haven’t gone crazy, I’ve just gone desperate. The weather outside is absolutely beautiful and that in and of itself makes me not want to be a reclusive vampire today, nursing a stupid headache in the relative darkness of my room. So, first thing I did upon waking this morning? I stepped out into the bright sunshine, inhaled deeply, and cringed, for the sun is so damn bright and the birds are intolerably loud and my head began to pound with the assault of my senses.

I know, I sound like a grump, but I’m trying, I really really am. I think maybe I need some ice cream, then I might stop whining a little bit. That sounds like a really good plan, which should be the highlight of my evening tonight. I feel bad for the people around me when I’m dealing with one of these ridiculous phenomena’s. John knows that it’s best to kind of keep his distance, and to by no means ask me what’s wrong, or if I’m feeling better. Sometimes he comes over and pets my head while I lay in bed, reminding me of yet another reason I love him so much.

I’m hoping that this thing will subside by later today, for I look forward to the weekend so much because I call my dad at least once during it. Not that I don’t get to talk to him at all throughout the week, because, of course I do, but I like the feeling of both of us relaxing a little bit when I’m on the phone with him.

I normally call him around noon or so his time, and I can always picture him and Vicky (his girlfriend—Yeah, my dad’s a stud) sitting out on the deck reading their favorite books and waiting for the Blue Jays to swoop down and steal the couple of peanuts that they have lined up along the railing. My father started “taming” the Blue Jays with me when I was much younger. He and I would sit out on the deck at our house in Malibu and shake the peanuts in their shells so that they would make a rattling noise. He would tell me that the Jay’s could hear this rattle from far away, and likened it to a dinner bell. I was unsure of this knowledge at first, but, my dad was the person telling me such things, so it had to be true right?

Anyway, we would shake these peanuts and then lay them out on the railing about five feet from where we were sitting, and sit ever so still, watching and waiting. At first, the waiting part took quite a while, it felt like hours, but I’m sure it was probably more like five or ten minutes. After some time had elapsed, a Jay would alight on the railing, looking at us like “What the hell is this all about?” “Is this some kind of trap?” It would hop around, looking at the peanuts and wanting ever so badly to grab one. Normally it would fly off and watch from a tree a few feet away, and then fly back when its belly could stand it no longer and grab the peanut as quickly as possible.

After this initial pass, things got much easier… Jay’s are brazen birds, very sure of their abilities to kick some butt if need be. With this bigger than life attitude, they were rather easy to “tame” and before long, they would swoop down and steal peanuts from our fingertips. I remember sitting at our dining room table, which had a big window looking out onto the deck, or more accurately called: The Blue Jay Feeding Trough, and eating lunch one afternoon with the family. We were just finishing up our midday snack, when a Jay landed on the sill and rather angrily began pecking at the glass. I suppose that we had been late in our afternoon feeding for if he had hands to put on his hips and a foot that he could tap at us impatiently, I am positive such actions would have been taken.

I believe my father’s lessons in Jay taming are much of where I got my patience from. I’m willing to wait for things now, and I don’t mind sitting quietly, knowing that if I give it long enough, that Jay will be showing up any second ready for lunch. Thank you dad for your non-traditional teaching methods for they are lessons I will never forget.