Saturday, December 4, 2010

Deja Vu All Over Again

While hospitalized for my migraines, I received copious quantities of steroids.

I look something like the Creampuffs Marshmallow Man from Ghost Busters, as a result. Meaning, my face is puffy, as is my tummy.

I hate the word "tummy," just FYI.

Another fun tidbit about steroids is that they cause insomnia. INSOMNIA.

I don't need any help with the insomnia department, as it is fully staffed and operational at all times of the week/month/year. Need someone who can't sleep? Oooh! Call me! Call me!

So I've spent the past two nights not sleeping when I'm supposed to be recuperating from my hospital stay. Because you have to recuperate from recuperating. Yes, really.

Thursday night, I read and wrote in alternating shifts, because I get restless when I have steroid insomnia. I want to do something. Now. Something different. Now. Something different again. Now. Okay, thanks.

So I read for five minutes, then wrote for five or ten, then back to reading for maybe 15 minutes, then back to writing for ten, etc., etc., ad adendum, ad infinitum.

I did the same thing Friday night. It was just as exciting the second time around, except I wasn't 3/4 of the way through a book I wanted to finish.

So I'm running on 4 hours of sleep in the last 24 hours, and that seems to be how things are going to stay, for right now. Awake. They will stay awake. For a long time.

The last time I had steroid insomnia this bad, I was on chemotherapy. I was also 17 and reading Harry Potter, so it wasn't like I lacked for something to do. I plowed through those books. And dreamed of pancakes and sausage, because in the first three books, J.K. Rowling talks about food a lot.

This time, there is no thrilling boy-wizard trilogy (at that time - now there's 7 of the books!!!) to get through, nor is there much of anything to do. I've cleaned out all I can clear out of the soon-to-be-office that used to be my (onetime) bedroom at my parents' house, and I've almost finished the first very rough draft of the story I'm working on.

So I'm blogging at 6:45 in the morning, as my dad gets ready to go jogging in the cold (for Texas) December air. He's crazy.

He's crazy for jogging, but I'm the one who's been up all night, and will probably be up all night again, tonight. Hopefully this doesn't trigger another migraine...

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