I have totally screwed myself up, people. I strained very hard somehow on Saturday night, and gave myself the worst headache I have ever had. I seriously thought I was going to have to go and wake JF up so he could take me to the hospital. Praying that my head would not roll off of my shoulders in the 30-odd steps it takes to get from the bathroom to the the bedroom, I very gingerly wound my way to the bed, stopping ever-so-briefly in the kitchen for three Excedrin Migraine, a bottle of water, and three Naproxen Sodium.
Most of Sunday was spent in bed, sleeping off this monster headache, and praying I did not get the awful nausea that *usually* accompanies such a headache. JF postulates that I strained a neck muscle, based on the fact that he did something similar a few months ago weightlifting. He was kind enough to let me sleep, and even offered to bring me anything, should I need it. I awoke in the early afternoon, feeling fuzzy and still slightly sore. I've been making sure to not move to quickly, and to not do too much that would cause re-injury.
Now all I have to worry about is my stomach rotting away from within from all the medications I've taken in the last few days to keep my head from exploding like a science experiment gone very, very wrong. Think happy thoughts, right?
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