in the hospital: migraines suck

so i'm currently in the hospital due to a terrible migraine that i've had since tuesday. they gave me some meds that made me have these awful convulsions, and i was twitching and jerking and thrashing uncontrollably and hallucinating and all this scary crap. so here i am, chillin in the neuro ward with all the elderly folks with alzheimers who call out for dead relatives in the middle of the night. woo.

unfortunately since this migraine screwed with my vision and made me all sensitive to light and sound, i've pretty much been sitting in a dark room, bored out of my head, for three days. i can't read, i can't write, i can't watch tv for more than an hour at a time... and let me tell you, i am terrible when it comes to being idle. i can't do it. i literally end up having a panic attack every time. i get all anxious when my mind isn't occupied and i start to freak out. and that's not exactly a recipe for happy times when you're now prone to fits of thrashing about.

on the bright side, i've had some excellent nurses and almost all of the people here are incredibly nice and helpful. plus they bring me green popsicles whenever i ask. its a pretty sweet deal. well, except for the one chick who decided to barge in at four in the morning and flip on the lights without waking me up first and loudly announcing that she was going to draw my blood as she grabbed my arm and poked around for a vein while i dazedly wondered what the heck was going on and why there was a lady approaching me with a needle. i wanted to smack her. but other than her, the nurses have been brilliant. there's this one guy who works at the nurses station whom i adore and ive just decided that hes my new best friend because he has a killer sense of humor and an admirable vocabulary and color coordinates his underwear with his scrubs.

but don't let the bright side blind you, because my current situation is awkward as hell. and not because i have a bunch of wires attached to my chest and a tube in my arm. nope, fate just decided to hate me this week, so guess who my doctor is? my ex-boyfriend's dad. yup. the one who dumped me and hasn't talked to me since. im pretty much over him now, but jesus christ is this awkward. and i live by the motto "it's only awkward if you make it awkward." the thing is, the dad looks just like his son, they have like the same eyes and the same jaw and the same stature. and he smells like him. that's what kills me. that's the smell that i found so damn comforting for five months, and now it triggers all these memories and its just WEIRD. that breakup is like an old bruise - its stopped its constant pain, but if you poke it it still hurts. and this isn't a poke, its more like a javelin stab. but he is really nice, and he's been taking good care of me. so that's good. i can deal for a few more days. but still, WEIRD.

so yeah. time for bed i suppose. night night, sleep tight, don't let the nargles bite.