I may have a brain tumor.
When I got pregnant for the first time, I wanted to do everything perfectly. Among the many good-mom steps I took was to stop drinking coffee. I liked coffee, but it was not that big a deal to stop. I drank yogurt smoothies instead, because I was pretty sure that was a good-mom drink.
After two days with no coffee, I developed a headache.
I get a lot of headaches, and they come and they go. No big deal.
This headache did not go. It stayed.
It got worse. It got so bad that I didn’t leave the house on the third and fourth days . . . I just laid on the couch and felt sorry for myself. How unbelievably unfair that I waited all this time to get pregnant and then the moment I get pregnant? I am struck down with a brain tumor. An angry vicious brain tumor that was tunneling its way through my softish brain tissue and knocking on my skull.
I thought I was dying. I sent up little prayers that whatever evil mass was working its way through my brain? It would progress slowly enough that the baby could be born before I died. I wept bitter tears of anger and sorrow for the child I would never know.
No, I did not go to the doctor. That would have been all sensible.
And then on the 5th day, the headache began to fade. And with the lessening pain came a certain amount of lucidity . . . tappity tappity . . .Google . . . tappity tappity . . . caffeine withdrawal headaches.
Sigh.
I did not have a brain tumor. I was an addict.
I was going to live.
But the baby? Was going to have an idiot for a mother.
Almost twelve years later? I discover that I am once again (still?) an idiot.
I drink two cups of coffee every morning. This morning, I drank one cup of coffee because we have guests and I poured them coffee and then the pot was empty.
No biggie, right?
And then we all piled into our cars and headed out for the day.
And I got a brain tumor.
Something about these brain tumor headaches makes me incapable of rational thought, because no part of my brain said, “Hey, I bet you would feel a lot better if you had your second cup of coffee.”
That would have been a helpful suggestion, but it was not made.
And so I had a headache . . . a blinding, spots before my eyes, ringing in my ears, need to take a nap, too much spit in my mouth, might have to vomit headache. Like a migraine, but more brain tumory.
And we were out in the hot bright sun, and I thought I was going to die.
Except I didn’t. I just kept living. Which sucked.
I dug in my purse and swallowed all of the pain medication I found there . . . and also a few sticky old jelly beans. They turned out to be coconut-flavored . . . way gross and not medicinal at all. Ick.
No improvement. I was still dying. No one noticed.
And then, at about 2:00 in the afternoon, Mark bought me a cup of coffee.
All casually he handed it to me, “Here, babe.”
And then? Miraculously? As I sipped the coffee? I was cured!
There was still an echo of pain, a memory of threatened death, a whiff of agony . . . but the brain tumor receded.
And as I sipped the coffee and my brain’s wheels unclogged themselves from the tumor’s fibrous grasp, I thought to myself all coherently, “I bet this fucking headache was because I didn’t have enough coffee this morning.”
Sigh.
I do not have a brain tumor. I am an addict.
And my daughters have an idiot for a mother.
I worry sometimes that one day I will actually get a brain tumor.
And then I will die.
Holding a cup of coffee in my hand, all puzzled.
I am all alone in the house for the first time today. We spent the day doing a bazillion touristy things with Mark’s sister and her family. Now they are all out at the lake for an hour.
After a day with the relatives?
I have come to the conclusion (brain tumor aside) that I have used up my supply of small talk.
I had hoped to have enough small-talk to live out my days, but I have run out, apparently.
That would be a bummer if I cared.
Which strangely, I do not.
That’s weird. I used to care about making a good impression on Mark’s family.
But now, I am all uncaring and silent.
I should Google that . . . running out of small-talk for use with husband’s family members.
I probably have a brain tumor.
I had this… and so I thought I’d be smart and switch to green tea. I drank it by the gallon while working– kept my nalgene full of green tea all day every day.
The withdrawals from that– were like your brain tumors!
I get migraines, so I know all about headaches.
Tumor coffee headaches? They make me especially stupid.
I have so been there! All headache-y and pissy about it and clueless. Until I drank some of the nectar of the legal addiction Gods. Your girls? Have a great mother. Small talk? Is the root of all evil. I hate small talk. What’s more, I hate small talk with my in-laws. Mine? Stopped by, unannounced, last night. My husband went outside with his dad to look at their new Trailblazer. Which left me in the house with his mother. This is the same woman who told me to soak my feet in bleach (we’ve discussed previously). She also says “Costcos” and pronounces “tiger”: “tager”. We have so little in common it’s not even funny. So there we sat. Making small talk. Being patient, tolerant and ridiculously polite because that’s all we’ve got. Right about then, I was wishing for a brain tumour. Or at least some bleach.
Yeah, The small talk is hard.
I seriously used up most of my chit-chat with Mark’s parents. And now with his sister? I’ve got nothing except gossiping about her parents, and I don’t want to do too much of that.
Not that there’s anything about which to gossip.
Snort.
If I could do Arnold Swarzenegger I would say, “It’s not a tumor! It’s not a tumor at all!”
But I would sound more like Julia Child with a sinus problem, I think.
I used to say somedays, when my job was particularly psychotic and other things were crazy, that I ran out of decisions by 10 am. I didn’t have to stop *making* them, but really I’d run out. So I was recycling old ones that totally didn’t fit, or saying random things that could be interpreted as “Lori’s thinking about that, she’ll get back to us,” but were really only designed to buy me enough time to get to the ladies room.
I recommend making up facts when you run out of small talk. You never know, you might spark a lively debate, or at the very least create enough awkward pauses that people give up engaging you in small talk in the first place.
Plus, weird ramblings totally fit with the brain tumor thing.
The people here have given up on engaging me in small talk.
I did not have your solution, so instead I just rolled up all hedge-hoggy in a ball. They poked a few times, but then gave up. I am an avoidant and crazy genius.
Or, I have a brain tumor.
I am going to get a beer and see what happens next. Sometimes alcohol makes me all insanely chatty.
Sigh.
a tidbit for your small talk? “Little Known Fact: The first testicular guard, the “Cup”, was used in Hockey in 1874 and the first helmet was used in 1974. That means it only took 100 years for men to realize that their brain is also important.” This? could spark quite a conversation!
And brain tumors? suck ass! the hubs had one and after they radiated it he had grand mal seizures…really explains quite a bit. aside from the whole engineer thing. sigh.
I had that on as my FB status about a month ago. My husband? Was not amused. The 100 women on my list? All copied it into their profiles hee hee.
Hee hee hee! So funny!
Cathy -
OK, well a real brain tumor?
That shit’s not funny.
Although the notion that your husband’s brain tumor is the reason he does not now notice a problem with which he should deal?
That makes me giggle a little.
it makes me giggle a lot. that was the standard excuse for a long time. “it’s the tumor” and we would all roll our eyes and giggle.
Happy sighs that you were not offended by my giggling.
I gave up caffeine for my first tri only with no issues. My idiocy? Is caused by other reasons.
Bummer for you.
Heredity is a bitch.
Oh, for goodness sake. You are no more an addict than I am. Duh.
You have a brain tumor, as do I. There is a magical ingredient in coffee that stops the brain tumor’s growth. Duh.
I can’t believe Dr. Google didn’t tell you that.
Coffee is MEDICINE.
Duh.
Coffee is medicine. Making a note.
Also? My glass of beer?
Also quite medicinal.
As it turns out.
Yes, beer, too. Also? Chocolate.
Mostly coffee, though. I don’t drink beer and I can live without chocolate, but not coffee.
Agreed . . . mostly coffee.
Brain tumor/caffeine withdrawals really really REALLY suck.
And more people are killed every year by donkeys than by airplane crashes. True story
Also, more people use a red toothbrush than a blue one.
Someone is filled with useless information!
Love that about you!
And my toothbrush? Is green.
What say you to that?
Hmmmm….green toothbrush….well I can’t really say much. I don’t always use the same toothbrush everyday. I tend to switch up between a pink one with those rubber tooth polisher thingys and a purple one without them.
Talk about a weirdo ha!
Sometimes I buy a purple one.
But mostly green.
It’s my favorite color.
Slugs have 3 noses….or is it eyelids? Pretty sure its noses because camels have 3 eyelids. And penguins mate for life. And male penguins take care of the baby penguin eggs while the mama penguin looks for food.
And I want to say that a platypus has a bill and teeth but I could be grossly wrong.
Snort . . . and now I have all the small talk I need!
You know what would be way smart?
If we stopped drinking coffee.
Except for that headache thing? I so would.
Excedrine Migrane helps with the caffeine withdrawal headaches because they have caffeine in them. I learned that a long time ago when I took some for a headache and was all pissed off because I couldn’t fall asleep.
Yes, but this would assume that I was all sensible.
If I was sensible, I would have sought out the extra cup of coffee.
So there is that.
I get horrid headaches so I understand. I always think I have a brain tumor and am going to die and no one will care because I should have known better. isn’t that how it works? if you didn’t do enough to keep yourself alive, your final punishment is no one cares?
caffeine is life
Caffeine is life. Love that.
Also love?
A tee shirt I saw today with a picture of Shakespeare. Under the picture were the words, “You discussed me.”
That made me giggle.
Say it out loud if you don’t get it.
As an English teacher and lover of Shakespeare (but not a LOVER-lover because that’d be gross and illegal and I’m pretty sure he didn’t swing my way), I must have that t-shirt. MUST.
Portland’s weekend outdoor market down at the waterfront.
But I’m sure you can Google it and find it on-line.
It was an awesome tee shirt!
I have horrible caffeine withdraw headaches, then I get mean. Im talking mean as in bite the heads off of small animals………….. mean. The only time it didnt bother me to not drink coffee was when I was pregnant. Though in all honesty it probably had more to do with the fact that I puked my brains out the entire time.. both times and any other pain I may have had was overshadowed by puke.
I have been in that place where pain is overshadowed by puke.
That is not a happy place.
I’m glad you survived.
Both times.
The other day, when we ran out of coffee but I didn’t know about it, I almost cried.
I also may have *actually* cried. A little bit.
And then? I dry my tears and climb into the car.
And head out for coffee.
Addiction? What addiction?
Cheapness and laziness strike again to save me from brain tumors! I am too cheap to buy myself coffee every day, and too lazy to make it every day, thus, I only get coffee when I’m feeling flush or super motivated.
Or very, very tired and desperate.
I remember the migraines, though, which I had from ages 6-30. Ugly 24 years, those. Oddly enough, pregnancy “cured” them for me. One more argument for my “one and done” theory: if I get pregnant again? I might reverse the cure!
I suffered from dysmenorrhea during every period I had before getting pregnant with Maj.
Truly a nightmare.
Pregnancy cured me. And if I had known that was going to be a side effect of pregnancy? I might have had Maj years earlier.
I was afraid that pregnancy number 2 would “reverse the cure,” but it did not.
It’s never a fun time, but since pregnancy, it has never been as bad as it was.
The migraines, though? They stayed.
Good times.
Tell them embarrassing stories about the girls while they’re in ear shot.
OK, you?
Are just evil.
Hee Hee!
Why do we lose all sense of reason when we stop drinking caffeine?? I don’t get it.
I don’t drink coffee, but would get my caffeine fix from pop. And if I happened to go a few days without the hard stuff (meaning caffeinated), I would be stuck with a terrible headache and completely oblivious as to where it was coming from.
I think I’m learning though…at least I hope!
I really do not understand my complete inability to think or reason when I have a bad headache.
Kallan might end up with that pony she wants someday, if she times her request properly.
I hate those headaches. I get my caffeine cold and every once in a while I get angry that I HAVE to have some every day or suffer so I try to give it up. But here’s the thing – those caffiene withdrawal headaches are a bitch!!! I have asked the pharmacist once if there wasn’t a patch or some gum like with cigarettes to help wean you off but as he was laughing (why is it always a guy that laughs first?!?!) the other female pharmacist said it would be a good thing to do that. Make coming off easier.. she said there had to be a better way.
You know some guy will rip off the idea and do it finally… long after I’m dead or something. It’s a good idea though.
M
When I was pregnant with Kallan (second pregnancy), I eliminated caffeine gradually.
Not surprisingly, that worked better.
A patch? Would have been lovely.
I do not love brain tumor headaches. At all. But next time you have one and you are not near coffee, find Excedrin, which contains caffeine. Or a Goody powder (gross). Though finding coffee would probably be easier.
OK, but coffee is generally easy to find. And your logic assumes that I am all reasonable and aware that I need some coffee.
Which I am not.
I am instead convinced I have a brain tumor, and a Goody powder (whatever the hell that might be) would not treat a tumor.