The Dark Side Electrifies Everything

Turns out there are a ton of videos games that I can trace my childhood migraines to. Jedi Arena (one of Parker Brothers wild Star Wars games) in particular stands out because we had to drive really far to get it on a hot day, and on the way home we were nearly involved in a collision, but when we got home...oh, when we got home...Nan and I played this until we both got sick.

Rather than subjecting you all to some strangers playing the game, I found another commercial from the past, and I don't remember this one either, but check out those dueling gamers. LOLirific.

You see where they show the game? With the lightning going back and forth? Every so often the "training droid" thingy in the center of the screen would decide it was going to unleash a Sith storm of crazy all over the place, and sometimes I wonder if there were any other kids out there who loved this game so much they'd go throw up and come right back for more.

The Dark Side Electrifies Everything

No Escaping The Past

I was a little video game addict in my day. Back then, pong paddles were real pong paddles and little green stick men were real little green stick men. They were real to me. *cuddles the cold plastic Atari*

Continuing the theme of games I loved so much even though they triggered migraines, I found the ad for Journey: Escape, which cracks me up, and not at all because of the weird off-tune live version of Don't Stop Believin' at the end. Really. I totally do not remember this commercial, but man did I help Journey Escape a billion times as a kid.

No Escaping The Past

The Eight Demands Of Migraines

I Am Having A Migraine, Therefore I Am A Migraine

Thou Shalt Not Make Me Want To Kill You

Thou Shalt Not Idolize Rave Lights

Thou Shalt Put No Billy Mays Before Me

Thou Shalt Not Make Wrongful Smells

Remember The Migraine Days And Clear The Schedule

Thou Shalt Not Empty The Medicine Bottle Without Replacing It

Thou Shalt Not Claim To Understand The Triggers, For They Are Mysterious And Many, And Violaters Shall Be Cast Into Puke

The Eight Demands Of Migraines

Oh Glorious Boobie-Sparing Brain Lightning!

By now the news has been everywhere that women with migraines are 30% less likely to develop breast cancer and man oh man, I am THRILLED.

Of course it could be the painkillers some women take for the migraines, it could be the ants, it could be that those women just weren't going to get breast cancer, but no, here is a reason for doctors the world over to tell women to be glad they puke while driving, to embrace their inability to watch TV with the lights off, and holy crap, yay for periods! Because there is now only a 70% chance that their body will give a big up yours to them in two different ways! OH BOY!

Janet Jackson fans, rejoice.

Oh Glorious Boobie-Sparing Brain Lightning!

Dear flashy television show,

You know who you are, you crazy show. Stop it. Just stop it with the bright white flash at every cut. Your sponsors need to stop that too, because I don't want to watch your show anymore. The flashing patterns are telling me to kill, they're telling me to maim.

I'm coming for you, horrible television flashiness. If I can get off the floor.

Dear flashy television show,

Give Me A Pill That Makes Me Slur.

I'm feeling very honest at the moment, and that never ends well for me, but that is the consequence of listening to the Bryan Ferry song from Legend too much. I get migraines, and part of the glory that is a migraine--for me--is that my jaw gets very stiff and it appears to people who don't know me very well--like for three decades--that I am having some sort of stroke or drug overdose. This always amuses me a few days later.

One thing I found to be useful after a night of banging my head on the keyboard to get relief was an article that describes a device that goes between the front teeth and can reduce jaw stiffness or something, I don't remember what I read by now because the lightning, it is in my head.

Seeing as I'm uninsured and unable to find a dentist willing to work at 2AM in exchange for say, a nice lemon pie and a few bootlegged B-movies, I looked at the one thing I knew would bring relief. My trusty little happy face pencil. Except instead of using it to stab myself through the temple, I put it in between my front teeth. Oh, if my family could see me now, never mind drug overdoses, I'm gonna die from the lead poisoning!

No, you know, I think these pencils were made in China, and a lot of the paint has been gnawed off over the past few months. Not to mention that I've been wary of putting the pencil in my mouth the past few migraines because I dropped it in the yard the other day while I was drawing, and you know, ants breed out there.

The thing that amuses me even more than being told I need medical attention is being told that the Excedrin Migraine that I take once I notice my elaborate aura is what is causing me to slur. Personally, I see no reason to take pills to give me slurs. I am not that emo. And God knows I am emo, but no, HGTV or the occasional Tony Scott film and the big ass hunk of chocolate cream pie (which was fabulous BTW, damn it) possibly maybe coupled with the 9000% humidity, decongestant withdrawal, and psychotic hormones out to remind me I am a woman maybe sorta are all things that are higher on the slur-causing list that a puny single dose of an over-the-counter aspirin/Tylenol/caffeine "preventative."

I totally have taken one aspirin, one Tylenol, and a cup of coffee to fashion my own version of this thing in the past out of desperation. No research has been done on one bourbon, one scotch, and one beer, but I'm guessing if I tried that the migraine would be the least of my problems. Being arrested for public nakedness with disfiguring hives, maybe, but then I'd really have some hardcore trouble to talk about at family gatherings.

Because honestly, crawling away to chew on a pencil (even if it did fall on the ground) and taking two weeny little Rite-Aid Excedrin knock-offs only when the pain gets so horrendous I think trepanation with a Swiss army knife might work is small time.

Which reminds me, I saw the Tom Waits movie Big Time, and it made me want to live another day. Which is kinda sad, because the next day I got this blasted migraine. HAHA, I kid. There are three days out of a month when I don't feel like I'm either going to die or kill for some reason, and after 25 years I've pretty much realized that no amount of happiness pumped into my eyes and ears changes that (although I'm not turning down a nice loud Level 42 song in my ear right now), but I'm used to it. I wish everyone else were. I mean, it's not like I block doorways.

Give Me A Pill That Makes Me Slur.

Who gets sick watching HGTV?

I would raise both hands, but then I couldn't type this. I don't generally like to write about my health, because there is only so much bandwidth on the Internet, and there aren't many people who see the humor in my stories about falling over. This is of course a flaw in my writing, because damn, that time the cats and dog got their leashes all tied up around my legs while I was on the floor was some funny shit.

I single out HGTV because that's what we watch, along with the Food Network and Game Show network and X-Play...okay, only I watch X-Play, but that's because I only eat oatmeal and peanut butter and have seen just about every episode of Match Game ten times. HGTV has the decorating shows, and House Hunters, and is light entertainment so we leave it on when we're having coffee.

I get migraines. I think I've mentioned that, but one trigger for migraines is flashing lights. If you've watched any show on HGTV recently, you know where this is going. The camerawork they use is almost subliminal, closets spin into focus and before you can say walk-in, the show is onto a choppy montage of sinks and knobs and yellow tiles and whatever the hell else is in the room. I dare anyone to tell me exactly what they've just seen after one of those shows.

Last night, after Gift Show 2006 made my entire family ill, I decided to hit the HGTV contact form. I pretty much said, "Hey, you're making me sick, cut that out."

The HGTV forum is filled with complaints about the camerawork, so I don't feel like so much of a whiny freak. I told HGTV I wanted to like their shows--and I do, at least no one dies on Design on a Dime, although there was that broken arm Lee Snijders had that time--but I can't enjoy things that make me homicidal. I don't think I said homicidal, I know better than to threaten a website with television killin'.

Truth is I don't remember what I said, but it was very eloquent yet concise and I felt pumped up enough after hitting submit that I came here to post the link to the contact form so anyone else who feels like they just got off a boat after watching can complain too.

Who gets sick watching HGTV?

There is no hope for us.

I'm sitting within a few feet of a television. Oprah & Gayle's Big Adventure has gotten to New York. Mum has stopped on the station because they're crossing the George Washington bridge.

Gayle, Oprah's BFF, thinks it amusing to mention that something is messed up with her vision. This happens on national television, and everyone is laughing and no one is getting a ticket and luckily no one has plunged into the river because while that would boost Oprah's ratings way up over the moon, I think New York has eaten enough celebrities this season.

This worries me, this driving while visually impared. It worries me because I have to do it, and if I have to do it, and Gayle King does it just to mess with Oprah's head...who else is doing it?

I do not drive across bridges, or at night, or during times when I cannot form a coherent sentence if I can help it. Of course there are times when my brain sort of slips out on the floor of a packed supermarket, and who wants to pick that up and put it back into my head? Not me, that's how you catch E. Coli of the temporal lobe.

Now, with my particular...issue, all cars, even the burnt-out heap with no tires on its side wrapped around the pole up the corner, appear to be moving. Sometimes I'm able to reason that I'm not seeing what I think I'm seeing and move on. Other times people may hear, "We're going to fucking die," wafting out of the open car window as I'm stopped at a light.

I dearly want to believe I'm the only person out on the road who has this problem, but I doubt it. There are documented cases of people being ticketed for driving with migraines, and while I imagine the NASCAR Imitrex 500 (if that ever really comes into existence I want a check) would be hilarious, setting us loose on the open road may be the most dangerous thing since Toonces got a cellphone as a prize for drinking the most beer.

What I think is even more dangerous is--just like with drinking--not thinking you have a problem seeing things, or not admitting it, or having passengers who won't admit it because they're afraid to die and too comfortable to ride with anyone else. Because if you know it's going to happen, you can at least let your passengers know that they should pipe up if, say, a man is quickly approaching the front of the car with a surprised look on his face.

As for me, don't worry, I am not out on the road today. So far I have always made it home alive. So you say that only proves that I'm insane? You may be right.

Oh, Billy, Billy, Billy, my friend...why do I always invoke you while talking about my driving?

There is no hope for us.