Last Tuesday afternoon I got a headache. I don’t get headaches like normal people. I still had it today. The side of my face was numb and tingly and the corner of my mouth was feeling weird, so like any normal person would do, I went to the doctor.
Doc: Hi, what’s wrong?
Me: Nuthin’. I just missed you.
He rarely laughs and this was no exception.
I tole him what the problem was.
As he was shining a light in my eyes, I said “It isn’t as bad as a migraine, but I’m nauseous. It kind of feels like my brain is too big for my skull.”
He said, “No chance of that.” Not even a smile. Shithead.
He did about ten little tests to make sure I had nothing neurological going on. He made me make Os with my index finger and thumb and told me not to let him break them. He crooked his finger in each O and pulled. He had me bend my hands up at the wrist to make an L out of my hand and forearm (are you following me?) and told me not to let him bend my hand down as he pushed against the back of my hand. He told me to lift each knee up and pushed down on each. He told me not to move my head but follow his finger with my eyes and moved his finger all over the place. He seemed to enjoy holding it up in front of my nose and making me look cross-eyed. When he moved his finger away I left one eye crossed. Nope, that wasn’t funny either. He stood in front of me and made faces and said “Do this” as he put his tongue in one cheek and then the other. Da-da-da-da-a bunch of other stuff. He looked in my mouth and ears and nose and listened to my heart and made me breathe in and out and stand on my head and sing The Star-Spangled Banner.
“You’re ok,” he said.
“Sigh,” I said.
“I think it’s just a migraine. (just a migraine? who has migraines for 9 days?) I’ll give you something.”
He asked me how all the other stuff was going; shortness of breath, anxiety, etc. Stared at me for a long time (squirm, squirm. Me, not him…) He told me to cut back on the caffeine that I’ve been ingesting in copious amounts to get through this 9-day headache. He said not to lose any more weight. (what???) and get back on the Xanax for awhile to get calmed down. I haven’t touched the stuff in over two weeks. Mostly because a) It’s hard enough to stay awake at work and b) It seemed kind of senseless to take a Xanax and chase it with a gallon of coffee. So I stopped taking it. Never wanted it in the first place but I don’t like feeling tense like this, so I’ll listen to him.
“When are you leaving on vacation?” he asked.
“Hahaha,” I said.
“You need to … relax,” he said (insert expletive in there.)
Before the visit was over, I said “Hey.” and he said, “What?” and I said, “How come you never say, ‘Come back in a couple weeks and we’ll see how you’re doing?’ or ‘I want to see you again in 3 months’?” He just looked at me with those eyes, like he does, and said, “I’ll send the nurse in with your pill.” I know what he was thinking, “Oh, you’ll be back…”