Okay... I can do this... It's just a little headache nothing much... I think to myself around 3:30. I'll just sleep it off. I curl up on the couch under a blanket facing away from the TV. But... Harry potter is soooo tempting to watch, so trying to fall asleep falls flat. I end up watching the rest of the movie and the next one. Yeah, the headache's nothing... I can handle this.
Ugh... My eyes... not a headache anymore... but it's still a simple migraine. It feels like there's a vacuum behind my eyes, trying to suck them in, but my eyes are too big. I put my palms over my eyes, welcoming the dark... my only true friend I've had since childhood... the comfort only the darkest of rooms can offer. It's not enough. I push on my eyes, trying to make the pain stop. It helps... but only slightly. I need to finish what I'm doing then I'll go to bed. I gotta get to September... it's not that far away, I'm on August 18. But it's too quiet... too too quiet... The X-Files will clear that up.
I watch two episodes with my computer as dim as I cam make it before I'm done collecting Facebook posts through August to the beginning of September.
But I'm not tired.
I'm not ready to go to bed and it's only 11. I persist on my computer to finish the 2nd X-Files episode. When it's over, I switch to the kinder, smaller, phone screen and continue talking to a friend via text.
But it's not just in my eyes anymore... It's spread... My head... my head feels like a cinderblock is trying to replace my brains but crushing down and squeezing them out my eyes and ears. It hurts... It hurts...
I lay down and close my eyes. My head erupts in pain! Agony! I can't lay down... it feels like a hammer is being thrust against my head. I feel my stomach flip and do roller coasters. I realize I never parted my hair like I normally do, and I do that.
*thankful sigh*
Relief... sweet... blissful relief to what I had just gone through... but not enough. My head is still pounding, throbbing, squishing around. Okay. I'm not waiting any longer. I want it gone. I want it all gone.
I tell dad. He nods his head thinking it over. My voice is ignored...
I tell mom. She nods and tells me to go take excedrin, naproxin, and one of Chantelles zofrans.
I do that and go back to bed. The time is 11:14. I still can't lay down... It hurts too much. I glance at the phone as it vibrates. I should say goodnight.
> (So I just read up a bit, with Heathers weight she will probably notice her stomach protruding a little. Not much but enough to make her excited)
> (Did I lose you?)
> (No)
> (Okay)
> (Yeah)
> (Are you tired?)
> (My hair may not last much longer, not it parting it the wrong way will give me a migraine hard enough I want to scream, pound my head against a wall then drop kick it across the room)
> (I want to shave it all off right now)
> (I know where the clippers are too)
> (It hurts It hurts so bad it's making me nauseous)
> (Ah.... Well you would still be able to donate a good amount of it)
> (I HATE LONG HAIR!!! I love what you can do with it, but I HATE LONG HAIR!!!)
> (Cause it gives you migranes
> (I may not be at school tomorrow. That's how sick I feel.)
> (Do you want to stop talking so you can rest?)
> (I'm not going to get much sleep tonight)
> Yes. I'm done. Done done done. It hurts so bad... light... sound... BAM BAM BAM!!!
> (Okay, I'll be here for you as long as I can)
> Okay, night then *hugs* hope you feels better
> Darkness is too bright, silence is too loud... it hurts...
The time is 11:24.
I feel about ready to puke... my stomach is turning, my lips feel numb...
I climb out of bed and hurry to the toilet, but nothing but excessive drool comes. I stay where I am letting out breathy sobs as my tears drip off my chin and nose into the water as I hold my long, beautiful, locks up against my head. It takes away some pressure. I whimper out a soft prayer to make the pain stop, to make the meds kick in faster. All the time, I have something to smile about. Amelia is circling around me, trying to figure out what's going on. She leaves eventually.
The zofran kicks in, I'm no longer nauseous, but my head hurts so bad... I scoot away from the toilet and hug my knees, still letting out breathy sobs. I have a need to have some output besides the crying that is making my head hurt more so I start rocking, rocking, rocking, rocking, rocking, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.
"Make the monster go away, make the monster go away, make the monster go away, make the monster go away, make the monster go away, make the monster go away, make the monster go away, make the monster go away," I whimper over and over mixed in with my sobs. My breathing falls into rhythm as I chant it and my sobs slowly calm down. I'm done. The hair needs to come off. NOW.
I go to dad and ask him to cut my hair off. He tells me to take an excedrin. I tell him I already did, about 15 minutes ago. The time is 11:32.
He asks if it can wait, I answer "Yes" and leave him to finish his fight.
I curl up on the couch, holding my hair up against my head. I haven't taken my hands off my head and let it down since I went to the bathroom. I sit there waiting, sobbing my breathy sobs, too afraid that putting my voice in them would make my head resonate and hurt more. "Stop the hurt... stop the hurt... stop the hurt..." I start. Wrong rhythm. Wrong pattern. It makes my breathing feel funning and head hurt more. "Make the monster go away, make the monster go away, make the monster go away," I continue chanting. I don't know why it helps, but it does, the pain subsides slightly.
"Are you okay?" Jade asks as she wanders out.
"Go away!" I cry out. I don't want to talk. It's too loud as is. Make it stop...
Distantly, I hear, "What's wrong with Celidah?" Then I tune everything, EVERYTHING out... silence... my other dear childhood friend.
Dad comes out. "Are you sure you want to do this?" He asks looking worried.
I turn my red, puffy, tear stained face to him. "Yes," I whimper. "It hurts soo bad! I know my head will be cold, I know there's no going back once this happens, I just want it gone!" I whimper and turn back into the couch, rocking again.
I hear the parents conversing.
"I totally know where she's coming from. It hurts."
Dad responds, but again I tune everything out with my breathy sobs and chanting.
"Celidah, come here," Mom calls and I obey quickly. I come into the room and the change in light nearly knocks my feet out from under me. The only way to keep my balance is to keep walking, so I go over and sit on the floor between Moms’ legs.
She starts tugging and pulling at my hair gently, trying to use her fingers a brush. I love my mom... so considerate...
"Would you like a brush?" Dad asks.
"No! No, a brush would be a bad idea," Mom speaks up.
"It will make the cut neater," Dad points out.
The next few minutes are spent putting my hair up in a ponytail. The next 30 minutes are spent cutting my hair.
The time is now 12:36
The meds have kicked in.
My tears have stopped.
The hair is gone.
After a short shower, I go to bed. It is now 12:56
The last time I see before I fall asleep is 1:24.
She left out the part of the conversation we had while brushing her hair as gently as I could, about the sound and vibration of the clippers along with her migraine. Knowing personally what the simple act of moving her hear around or vibrations would feel like, I warned her about this torture for her. Yes, she needed the excess weight of her beautiful long hair removed, however, without sound, vibration, and as little movement as possible.
Poor Celidah felt bad enough about begging for a midnight hair clipping as it was, yet, she needed our help. Helping her understand that time is not a reason to not ask for help. The kids all important, as are their needs, day or night. They just need to come and ask.
No comments:
Post a Comment