Thursday, June 21

Taking it in the Teeth

Dear Self,

It's me again, the neurological disease you pretend most times you don't have. I applaud your gift of denial, one you come by honestly from your mother, but I'm back and bigger and badder than I've ever been. You're going to feel like a bicycle tire pump has been inserted in your ear and a chimpanzee is jumping up and down on the handle to Calliope music. You're going to be dizzy, in pain, not able to see, fall asleep driving, throw up, not be able to turn your head or touch your chin to your chest, the pressure and pain will make it hard to sit or stand and just for fun, you'll be exhausted all the time.

Now that I have your attention, here's what's going to happen. You're going to slow down, sit still, lay down, take naps, take lots and lots of pills, drink gallons of water, constantly run to the bathroom and next week, they're going to take a picture of your brain, just to make sure I don't have a friend tap dancing in there with me. Won't that be fun? So what if the cost is the same as your monthly budget for food. Be grateful you can get this level of care, being uninsured and all.

You see I've been here all along, watching, waiting and planning my return. You were lulled into a false sense of security that the pill you took every day could keep me at bay. If you feel threatened, scared and alone, it's justified.


Pseudotumor Cerebri

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