Whinge therapy. 

Living at home all my life up until recently, I took it for granted that I could lay pathetically in bed and holla “Mam!” as I was convinced I was dying a slow death. Whether it be the 24hr bug, the arrival of Aunt Flo, or a migraine, I rarely suffered in silence. Even if it wasn’t to rescue me with the beloved nurofen, a good dose of whinge therapy was usually all I needed. Mum would always intently listen to my droning whine as I convince her i’m dying, until I worked out a way to make it better*. 
Waking up at 5:20 on the daily has become my least favourite past time, and probably a little bit to do with a migraine I sustained the other day. It had nothing to do with being dehydrated, i’m sure of it**. Anyone who knows me well, knows i’m a fabulous (or not so fabulous, depending on how you look at it) whinger. I don’t suffer in silence – ever. Whether i’m feeling low in mood, or in physical pain, someones going to know about it. I’m yet to work out if this is the best or worst thing ever. 

By lunch time on this recently past day, i’d started my whinge therapy. I was tired. And it was Monday. I’d promised friends i’d go rock climbing with them after work and well, what sort of novelty is that?! An indoor rock climbing centre a mere walk from work – yes please! With the headache turning into more of a head-thud, it did become a kill joy. Reaching above my head and using my upper body was a fun physical challenge, but it made that thud even more present. 

On a side note, rock climbing is actually spectacular, despite my invisible abs screaming their presence still two days later. It’s a great way to challenge yourself physically as well as mentally, and either make or break your trust with friends as they belay you. Definitely recommend rock climbing, let that inner child free. I dare you. 

Suddenly its dark, a few hours have passed, and its time to get home. Waiting at the bus stop for the bus felt like a thousand years, but standing in the cool breeze was lovely. Fast forward a half hour or so, and I was having a tanty at why my ‘opal’ card wasn’t working to get on the bus. My rock climbing pass it turns out, doesn’t suffice as an adequate form of payment. Drats. Not sure what was more infuriating – realising this, or the embarrassment. 

Anyway, finally, i’m sitting on the bus and on the home run!

Ohh… the nausea waves. The head-thud had turned into head-storm. Helloooo migraine. Have you ever sat on a bus with a migraine? Its horrendous, do not recommend. With photophobia hitting hard, working out on my phone where my stop was was gag worthy. With every corner turned, I was working out where my puke would go if I chundered down the bus isle. Would it reach the front of the bus all the way from the back? Or would it just sit there and pool. Is it hot in here? Why are my legs freezing? Oh, my thermostat has shat itself, fabulous, now I feel even worse, like it was even possible. I considered getting off at each stop, with the plan to just sit in the gutter chundering calling for Mum, but my brain convinced me each time to just wait again till the next stop. At the next stop i’d get off and die in a gutter. And the next. And the next. 

Somehow, by some miracle, I recognised my stop, and somehow got off the bus with minimal fuss. Ohh, upright, I have to do the walk – a whole 500m home. That sounds easy! Ahaha.. I really need some pain killers, my head is legit about to blow. By this time i’m slowly dragging my feet looking super pathetic, looking around with minimal head movement working out where would be an acceptable place to empty my stomach contents, should it decide to do so. Thankfully some sort of instinct kicked in and I called a really good friend who coincidentally, suffers from debilitating migraines. I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry when I answered the phone – it sounded so pathetic. “Walk me home! I’m sick! Distract me, please!” After some trial and error as I gagged in response to their food talk, it worked. I got home, shoved down some nurofen, and voluntarily collapsed under the kitchen floor. It sounds dramatic, and well, it was – i’m a sook. 

My house mate was home and I whinged until I passed out. Thankfully not under the table where I laid for a good while amidst the whinge-fest. My housemate is the greatest, i’ve worked out she’s basically my Sydney Mum***. 
Then the best thing happened. You see, when you feel so terrible, and then suddenly not so terrible, ‘normal’ becomes spectacular! I absolutely bounced! It was like i’d just seen daylight for the first time. I declared to my housemate every 0.2 seconds how incredible I felt. The friends i’d gone rock climbing with had seen a very sad and sorry Candice, but that wasn’t the vibes they were getting when she sent them energetic, loving text messages. Even though I had no migraine, i’m always exceptionally tired post migraine, and over-tired Candice = delirious Candice which mimics intoxicated Candice. When told to go to sleep, I obviously refused, I was feeling the best i’d EVER felt! Quote from friend: “Hahaha you are legitimately like a teenager but it’s more alarming cause you have money and independence.” And then I realised this was very true. 

Being sick 600km from home isn’t fun in the slightest, but again, realising the position i’m in with being independent and financially stable is one I shouldn’t take for granted. It might have taken a migraine for me to realise, but thanks be to God that i’m on this journey i’d never planned, but happened to be the best thing for me. Also, I’m still not taking feeling normal for granted! Two days on, at the sparrows time of 7am, in bouncing into patients rooms with them commenting “you’re chirpy this morning!” Absolutely I am, its a wonderful day to be alive! 

Those on the journey with me, you guys are amazing for tolerating my whinging with such patience and love – fantastic humans, the best. I’ve been blessed abundantly. 

With appreciating each ‘normal’ day still far more than I did pre-migraine, I frolicked down the road to where people park their boats. Y’know, so I can get some boat-inspo, or something like that. With a confusing day of 33degrees, it’s a great opportunity to appreciate where I am – in every way. So here, I hope you love the view just as much as I am, sitting under a tree in a dog park being jumped on by random wet and fluffy dogs who are very excited to get wet on a very hot day. 

*Its usually Mum’s idea, that she lets me claim as my own. Mum: Candice you’re dehydrated, drink some water. Me: I must be dehydrated, I should drink some water. 

**It definitely had everything to do with being dehydrated. 

***She cooked me dinner, listened to my whinging, and made sure I was still alive when I unexpectedly passed out. 

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