the MIGRAINE from HELL

I had planned to blog yesterday but alack. Torturous migraine. I had the same plan for today. And I still have a migraine.

But here goes.

My great-grandmother suffered migraine (probably all my ancestor-women on my mother's side did, but that's as far back as I have hard data). Great-Grams used to lie down and smear mustard seed goo all over her face, in hopes that the uncomfortable burn of mustard seed on her flesh would distract her from the pulsing knot of her brain freaking out. That's how the story goes, anyway, and I buy it.

My grandmother just hid in the basement.

My mother lies down with a warm wash-cloth over her eyes.

Me? I complain. I groan. I drink water, call the Bat, and carry on. I hate migraines, so I fight them. Yesterday I couldn't bear to look at a computer screen, so today must be better because here I am .... though I'm gritting my teeth, now that I think about it.

Time for Excedrine ... or crushed mustard seed. Whatever I find first.

Read on, Goodreaders,
M