Please excuse my rather unappetizing details as I relate the current state of my health.
I developed a splitting headache between the time I arose and the time I sat down in Hick's La-Z-Boy for my morning chair nap. It did not improve when Hick plopped himself down on the short couch instead of dashing back to work after his recent knee surgery. That interfered with the morning routine of The Pony, who usually lays on this couch for few moments between waking and dressing.
Once he saw that he had derailed our well-oiled machine, Hick drove off to work to report that his doctor wants him to take three more weeks off. Which I don't believe is happening.
Even Hick's departure did not make my head feel better. It just felt more like the brow of a Neanderthal. By the time I sat down behind the control center in my classroom, my head felt like an American Pippin in a cider press. I did not want to take a pain-reliever so close to the time I had ingested my daily medication. So I tried to hang on until lunchtime. That meant I needed one thing to get me through until first bell. The vibrator.
The Vibrator is a flat-egg-shaped, smooth plastic holder of batteries and good vibrations. I ripped it out of an airline neck pillow massager. Because all I needed was the vibrator. Originally, I extracted my contraption to use on the back of my neck after my thyroid was ripped out two summers ago. Bet you didn't know that cutting your throat in the front makes your neck hurt in the back, now did you? Seems they shove you to the end of the operating table while you're unconscious, and let your head fall over the edge. The better to cut your throat, you see. I can't thank my surgeon enough for sharing that tidbit on my follow-up visit. Now where was I...
As I powered up my controls, and logged on five times, I held The Vibrator in my left palm and placed it against my forehead. A couple of minutes over each eye, then a couple of minutes under each eye. It was fantastic. If I was a dog, my hind leg would have been twitching. I had to stop five times. Not because the pleasure was too intense. To blow my nose. A regular river of clear, thin snot gushed out of my snout. I had a bubbling source in my sinuses, culminating with its mouth at my nostrils. Snot River. I rank its discovery right up there with the Mississippi and Missouri.
The good feeling lasted about twenty minutes. Then my head returned to being one of those bug-eyed stress squeezers. It stayed like that until I popped an acetaminophen at 11:15, and continued to feel as compacted as a snowball in an L. L. Bean snowball maker until 1:15. When it suddenly faded away.
I am now clear-headed, with a slight wheezing in my chest. More reports from sick bay as symptoms develop.