(If you're uninterested in migrane news, scroll down. There's knitting stuff and a Goober photo at the bottom.)
I saw my doctor yesterday about the migraines. Ironically, it was a particularly bad day (due in part to the weather) and I looked quite pitiful, huddled inside two sweaters, wearing my super-dark sunglasses. (Those are the sunglasses I had made, custom, that the optometrist said might be safe to wear when welding.) Apparently it's been a very bad year for everyone, in terms of weather-related health problems, and he didn't argue a bit, just asked questions about why I didn't like my old medication and suggested a new one. I said okay to the new one. (I may tell him what to do in terms of chronic pain, but he knows more than me about just about everything else.)
So over I go to the pharmacy, land of my nightmares. I hate those fuckers. Have I mentioned lately I hate those fuckers?
I was in line to ask them what the bloody hell was taking so long, when my name came up on the 'perscription ready' list. When I got to the window, I was greeted with a sheaf of papers to sign - turns out my new migraine medication is a controlled substance, just like the narcotics and tranquilizers I've been trying to quit taking for the last month.
Sigh. At least I only take these when I've got a migraine, and once the weather settles down, that means almost never.
It's called "Midrin" for those who are curious. It's a 'combination drug', meaning it's some unholy witches' brew of stuff, not one single chemical. There's an anti-inflammatory, a vasoconstrictor (which is what I was on before that messed me up, but this is mild enough it doesn't bother me), some kind of sedative related to chloral hydrate (isn't that a hoot? Knock out drops. Fun), and God knows what else. one or two other things.
Long story short, they make me slur my speech, but I slept last night for the first time in three weeks, and am awake enough this morning to be writing a blog post at nine AM, instead of laying in the recliner with the cat on me, barely coherent. When I took it yesterday, I got really goofy, but I've yet to decide if that's the drug, or just being free of pain -- I've seen it in chronic pain situations before. My CP doctor told me about it, too. Basically, if you've been in pain for a while, being suddenly free of pain can make you so giddy it's like you're drunk. And it can happen with drugs that have NO drunkeness effect. I've had it before with anti-inflammatories. So we'll see. But there are far worse things than being goofy. I kinda like being goofy.
Anyway. Now that I'm feeling better, I'm working on the Vogue Knitting holiday review. I swear. Unfortunately, last I checked the VK web site is down and there are no photos available. I took some of my own, using my camera to take photos of the magazine. But they kind of suck. So unless the web site goes up in the next day or so, you're stuck with more photos of a lesser quality, for the review.
I had the husbeast look through the magazine in the hopes of another description like 'fistful of monkey's assholes', but no luck. Mostly he just kept saying "what is that doing in a winter magazine?" which was the same thing I was asking.
There is one pattern that made me think "Oh my god, another Dalek", but you'll just have to wait and see. (Unless you have the magazine, then feel free to guess which one I'm talking about. I bet you know.)
Last night, we were watching "How it's Made" on Discover. It's a show that does factory tours. The husbeast and I are engineering geeks, so we love the show, and it's something safe to watch when the Goober's running around (as opposed to, say, murder vision, which is strictly a nap time sort of thing).
I don't know if it's the environment or simply DNA, but the Goober appears to be turning into an engineering geek before our very eyes. It was a segment on how they make ball-bearings, and she was fascinated.
(Note the pig slippers.)
I went to high school with a girl who was about five feet tall, looked like a pixie, and had a tiny little-girl voice. She told everyone that she wanted to be a mechanical engineer. Last I heard, she was working for NASA. I always think of her when the Goober starts on the engineering stuff.
Now I'm gonna go knit. Because I feel like it. Whee!