The title of this post only has to do with the song I was listening to. Imagine if I could write a story about full moon nights and white satin… I’d be a romance writer! Huh!
I am a romantic. No, I do not panic when presented with pink sapphires. I bask in the glory and beauty. The beauty was breathtaking. That’s why I was gasping for air. Not in panic. I am a romantic! To prove it. Here’s Nights in White Satin by Mario Frangoulis:
Anyway, we moved houses last two weeks of December. [Take that, stalkers! You’ll have to look for me again.] Moving is hard. I still have no idea where my underwear is.
And then I had a migraine. The moral of the following story is… whatever, you figure it out.
When I get migraines, my head goes into direct conflict with gravity, so I usually get to a point when I just have to lie down. On the floor. In the dark.
My head had issues with lying on the floor in the dark this time, I guess it just might have something to do with the new house and all. The migraine took a while to clear off. Usually the synesthesia and aphasia happens just a few minutes before the pain kicks in, then it clears away and I’m left with the pain.
Oh, synthesia: Synesthesia is a condition in which one sense (for example, hearing) is simultaneously perceived as if by one or more additional senses such as sight. Another form of synesthesia joins objects such as letters, shapes, numbers or people’s names with a sensory perception such as smell, color or flavor. The word synesthesia comes from two Greek words, syn (together) and aisthesis (perception). Therefore, synesthesia literally means “joined perception.”
For me, aphasia means: difficulty pronouncing words, connected to synthesia it also means switching one word for another and not actually noticing it.
In my case, if the migraine lasts too long, say more than 4 hours, the synesthesia might come back.
So about 6pm the other day, I am still on the floor trying to get my bearings, when someone taps at my door. I don’t even bother to lift my head up to see who it is. Everything hurts.
“Julie, how are you feeling, would you like something to drink?” My mother is the only one allowed to call me Julie.
The door closes quietly. It is a while before she comes back and I wonder if she forgot.
There is another tap on the door, this time the voice is male, in a whisper.
“Jules, do you need anything?”
“Yeah, I asked mum for vodka a while back, what is taking so long?”
The door closes again. 5 more minutes pass, the GB peeks in.
“Hey. Would you like your vodka warm or chilled?”
He comes back right away with a glass of warm water.