I can finally use ICE, ICE BABY as a title.

I am not one for “natural remedies”. I find the idea annoying. I know there must have been something done for people BEFORE the advent of aspirin and Neosporin, but to be honest, I figure they wouldn’t have come up with those great cure-alls if the natural stuff was working so well, and as a person who gets stress headache’s often I don’t like taking a chance on my head splitting open in front of innocent children because of the pain. I think brains and blood and stuff might be traumatic.

Last night I found myself with another massive headache on the right side of my head. My drug of choice is Excedrin Migraine Extra Strength, because you never know when you’ll need to feel completely numb from head to toe. Sadly, I couldn’t take the horse-tranquilizer that is Excedrin migraine because it has caffeine in it and caffeine would have made me go bananas at 12.30am. I was already singing Disney tunes to Bub to take my mind off of the pain, but when he needed quiet to, you know, sleep, I had to think of a different solution.

ICE.

Yes, ice. Simple ice. I had seen a college roommate use ice quite a bit when she had migraines. She would get an icepack and sit in a dark, quiet room for hours until the headache went away. Coupled with some sort of shot (could have been heroine, could have been prescribed, I was never sure), it seemed to always do the trick. So last night I went to the fridge, put some ice cubes in a plastic baggy, wrapped the baggy in a few layers of paper towels and went off to bed. FOUR SECONDS LATER I WAS ASLEEP. Quite literally, four seconds. I remember my head hitting the bumpy, cold, paper pillow and I was out like someone had pistol-whipped me.

It could have been the way the ice cubes were positioned on my temple, maybe? The edges hitting the KNOCK HER OUT IMMEDIATELY area of my brain? Or maybe the cold just lulled me to sleep because I was warm? I have no idea, but the next time I woke up I discovered what felt like a very cold breast implant under my face, and threw it on the floor. At 7am I stepped in the puddle left behind by the cold breast implant and at 7am my brain is all, DID I PEE IN THE NIGHT ON THE FLOOR? Oh no, it’s just my new, fantastic way of getting to sleep with a headache.

Now, how does one make money off of lumpy, frozen water in a plastic bag?

Leave a comment -

Liz in Dublin