The One with the Hand Truck

Several years ago, while driving on Second Avenue, J had to dodge a tire thrown from an overpass. It was a slightly surreal experience, watching the tire bouncing down the road, traffic at a standstill until it stopped moving, exchanging puzzled looks with our neighbor in the next lane over.

Tonight, while driving back from my dinner date with TA, I experienced my second encounter with an item that should-not-be-on-the-road in the form of a hand truck (illustration approximate. Your hand truck may vary in appearance). Unlike the tire, it rolled across the road from the left, hit the front end of my hastily stopped car with a crash and a bang, bounced off the vehicle and into traffic on my right.

To quote TA, happily sitting unaware in his seat, “Whoa. That was loud!”

And completely infuriating, as I had agreed this week to trade in the car that was just HIT BY THE HAND TRUCK.

Changing IV

I’m home with a migraine today, a malady that I am experiencing with increasing periodic (literally) frequency as my body shifts from post-pregnancy back into menopausal mode. The massive mood swings, increase in pre-period of migraines, erratic timing and cramps from hell make me long for the days when I would only wake up drenched in sweat and shivering.

The migraines have also changed, making it more difficult to detect when one is coming. This morning I discovered a new symptom – gag level sensitivity to phantom-like odors, which began at 5:40am when I J, freshly shampooed, leaned over to cuddle me for a moment. In my semi-coherent state I was unable to effectively communicate to him why I could not get away from him fast enough.

Only to pick up the odor again as I sat up in bed, as we use the same shampoo and the smell still lingered in my hair. I did not catch on when I stepped out of the shower and found myself wondering why things seemed to far away. It was only upon attempting to dress and realizing that I was becoming nauseated and incapable of choosing a shirt that I realized that I was about to be in a world of pain unless I took my medication immediately.

I took the medication. Comforted TA, who was angry about being forced to wear pants, then angry because he wanted to take a Dr. Seuss book in for show and tell (theme: seasons) instead of The Snowy Day. We settled on Ten Apples up On Top, which I thought could be stretched as a “fall” kind of book, because otherwise how would the characters have access to so many apples?

J and TA left, and I settled into a dark room and contemplated my life. The awfulness of the mood swings, which leave me feeling depressed and lonely. Last night I planned on going out and running some errands – except that I had no place to go and no one to meet. I ended up coming home and hiding in the bedroom while J and TA played downstairs. I find myself missing my former best friend and fighting the urge to reach out to her, even though I know it is for the best that we are not in contact any longer.

I hate this. I have limited options on how to alleviate the symptoms and none of them are really great. I can’t imagine going through 10+ years of this shit.