Sleeping on a welcome bomb

Oxygen Under The Bed!So it’s been pointed out to me that I’m now basically sleeping on a bomb. This doesn’t worry me, in fact it’s rather comforting. Now before those lovely chaps in black jump out of helicopters and land on the roof I should perhaps explain.

Or perhaps not if it’ll give the neighbours in my road some excitement.

Oh all right, I’ve teased you enough with a tasty crumb and so you deserve a hearty mouthful.

You see as one or two of you know, I get some naughty little headaches now and again. They’re actually called “Cluster headaches” and they’re evil little buggers. Think of it as a migraine on acid, or if that metaphor doesn’t help, then how about a heavyweight boxing champion, trapped inside your head and using the back of your eyeball as a punchbag. That one generally works for me.

However a chance encounter many years ago with a tiny little baby doctor (she looked about 12 but I was sure she’d grow into her stethoscope one day) made me realise that oxygen was like a magic potion, giving almost instant results. Five minutes of breathing pure O2 was enough to relieve a pain that had gone on for days and was causing me to think seriously about head removal (which is of course pointless, since technically, one doesn’t chop of one’s head, one chops off one’s body. The head is still you. You’d go through the whole decapitation process and still have a headache). You see, I’d thought this through.

So anyway, all I needed to do was to get my GP to prescribe O2 and all would be hunky dory. Well apparently not. Some GPs think that they cannot prescribe O2. Some wonder if you’ve tried maybe taking an aspirin instead. Some like to ask if it’s tension. Some, unreassuringly reach for Google.

Eventually a few weeks ago I sat and chatted with a neurologist. I tried to convince him that they weren’t actually clusters because mine don’t really fit the standard pattern. He fired millions of questions at me and told me that they really were. And why wasn’t I using O2?

And then from out of the blue, just the other week, I was told it would be delivered the next day. No fuss, just wait in and a van will deliver two whopping great cylinders of the stuff. And it did. And once the first one is empty, I just phone or email and they’ll deliver more if I leave the empty outside.

Occasionally we have visitors come to stay and they use my bed. I think legally I’m now supposed to give them a Health and Safety briefing before bedtime. I foresee a PowerPoint presentation on the horizon.

Toodle pip.


About Words of Little Relevance

Freelance stage manager; software and web tester; Excel and map geek; Tweeter; Blogger and Cake Eater. Often back-stage in and around Oxfordshire and Buckinghamshire where I move scenes, or play with lights or sound.
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2 Responses to Sleeping on a welcome bomb

  1. So, I didn’t know what that stuff was, had to google. Quite interesting, especially for a friend who suffers terribly. Am wondering why she doesn’t know about this herself… Glad you’ve found some help 🙂

    • Well clusters are quite specific and I’m led to believe that oxygen doesn’t work for everyone. The doctor that I mentioned sat me down with oxygen during an attack. Her view was that if it didn’t work, they were probably migraines, but if it did they were probably clusters.
      In England, GPs can prescribe oxygen but they’d rather not until a neurologist has confirmed the diagnosis. Not sure where your friend is, but getting a referral to see a neurologist would probably help to identify exactly what her/his headaches are.

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