Looking on the Bright Side
So I took the trolley back to the car. Three year old daughter informs me it is the wrong car. I look at the car, and realise she is right. Not only that, I can’t see it.
I can’t see anything properly. Everything to the right is smeared away into a blended blind spot, everything to the left is under a shimmering arc. Oof.
What to do?
Clearly I can’t drive. I can’t even see the car. Luckily daughter#2’s tummy was “aching for a cafe”, so we decided to find the right car, put the shopping in it, and weather out the storm over lunch. I thought that my vision might come good after a burger and a coke. Usually my vision is only disturbed for about half and hour.
Some people feel sick at the onset of a migraine. I feel fine. Hungry, even. My random side-effect is the inability to talk coherently. I decide what I want to say, then my brain hits out with its “random vocabulary selector” function. And at some point my right hand and the middle of my tongue go numb. Plenty of opportunities for slapstick cafe moments.
Despite the potential pitfalls I managed to order up a tasty and high calorie lunch then set about generating contingency plans for such a scenario as I was in.
First off, I have to make sure I posted a wee scoop before I found a dark room to lock myself in for the subsequent 48 hours, so I distilled my feelings into a haiku and hit “publish”.
By the time I had to ask for the bill I knew my speech function had kind of gone a bit unreliable. “Table” kept coming out “book”. What a numpty.
Realising that I still couldn’t really see safely enough to drive, I persuaded a willing volunteer to rescue me, my daughter and my groceries, leaving the car to fend for itself against the traffic wardens.
Looking on the bright side: I can rely on my daughter to keep me right when I go putting groceries in other people’s cars. I can compose a haiku knowing that my brain is in lockdown, and I am still happy with it afterwards. I find the speech glitches interesting from the inside.
Not only that, I can take two days of lying down in the dark at all times other than when I am physically at work, and still survive work.
One day I need to go and get prescription sunglasses, which would have prevented the problem. It is just such a shock to the Scottish system when there is a blink of sunshine – my retinas go into some kind of post-winter shock and tell my brain to flip out until I find my shades for this year.
It must be springtime!