A million clocks

There is nothing like a headache to really do your head in. I am reading a book at the moment that describes a headache as like “being in a really huge clock shop where it’s always 12 o’clock”. That’s how I felt yesterday. And the day before. And the day before that.

The headache first struck me down in the middle of the night. At least, it would have, had I not been down already. I woke up and thought I was dehydrated. I got up and sculled as much water as I could. That did nothing. I lay awake for half an hour before I decided to check the time. It was 2am. Shaun was snoring.

At 2:30am I turned my light on to do some reading. Not the most cunning of moves when you’ve got a headache, but lying there doing nothing was driving me nuts. I read for an hour, by which stage the snoring had graduated into a full blown animal symphony that no amount of kicking seemed to affect. Blocking his nose worked temporarily, but only long enough for him to wake up in fright, apologise, then start up again.

I decided to get up and sleep on the couch before I committed an act of grievous bodily harm. Unfortunately I didn’t sleep. I lay staring at the ceiling until 6am. We didn’t have any panadol in the house and it’s the only safe painkiller when you’re pregnant.

So I spent yesterday at home with a sore head. I decided to see my specialist as in combination with the spectacular blood noses I’ve been getting, headaches can be a sign of high bloodpressure – dangerous in pregnancy.

But no, I’m fine. And now I have some weird pills to take that stop nausea – which I don’t have – because they have a side-effect – stopping headaches.

So the clocks have stopped and I’m back on track.

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