For migranes codeine

I was diagnosed a couple of months ago due to hitting all the symptoms and blood tests fine. My headaches are really getting me down. I have them constantly, there is not a single moment where I don't have a headache. I also get frequent migranes where I feel light sensitivity. It sucks. Sleeping is the worst because putting pressure on my head is insane. Amplifies a 7/10 pain level headache to an 11. I've tried triptaines, codeine, naproxen. I was hoping for advice on how to manage this hell as I am just struggling.

Hi, I have always had heavy, painful periods since starting at age 10 (so 15 years).
About 18 months ago I visited my GP for severe fatigue, heart palpitations and feeling faint. I was diagnosed with anaemia and put on the pill in the hope this would ease my heavy periods. I described my period pains (impossible to do anything for the first day, sometimes nausea and vomiting and I once fainted from the pain) and the GP said this was normal but I was just a bit 'unlucky'. I pushed for investigations and was sent for a transvaginal ultrasound to 'put my mind at ease'. By this time my always-regular cycle had gone from a 28 day cycle to 34-36 days, I think because my body was struggling to function with so little iron.
I waited 6 months for the ultrasound knowing it was unlikely to show endometriosis but I thought it was a hoop I must jump through. I am also a survivor of abuse so the transvaginal ultrasound was a huge fear for me and I went to therapy to prepare myself for it, so it was a big deal for me to go through with it. The scan came back normal and my GP says this is because there's nothing wrong and I ought to be relieved. The pill has reduced my bleeding so the GP says I am fine. However, the pain can still be very bad and I have sometimes needed to take codeine. The GP will not refer me further as he says he has ruled out anything serious and I need to just relax.
I was diagnosed with IBS when I was 15 (I am now 25), and had many years with no symptoms after cutting out lactose. However, I am now having excruciating bowel pain every morning to the point where I feel so helpless I am crying. I wake in the night 4-5 times needing to urinate, and I wake in the morning with bladder pain from holding my bladder whilst I sleep. I can't go anywhere until after lunch because the pain and nausea is very bad in the mornings. I have missed major life events due to feeling so unwell and in pain. I spoke to my GP about this a month ago and was told it was just my IBS and maybe I was anxious so I should try to cut out stressors. My health is the only thing I am stressed about! I am very concerned these are symptoms of endometriosis rather than just IBS, and I know there is a link between the two. I also experience migranes and psoriasis, if that's of any relevence.
I feel completely hopeless, like I must suffer with this forever. I also worry I really am fine and it is all just in my head. If I did finally get a laproscopy and it didn't find endo I would feel like I really was ridiculous and just failing to cope with normal discomfort. I don't know what to do anymore and I feel like I can't keep pushing, I'm tired and it hurts when I am dismissed at every turn. I have changed GPs due to moving house, but I am still too scared to try again as I just can't imagine being listened to at this point. Any advice would be really appreciated.

TLDR: Chronic migraine sufferer for about 4.5 years and tried about 55+ treatments so far. Tried theraspecs on a whim which have helped so far more than any other treatment I've tried.
I've suffered from chronic migraines for about 4.5 years now. They were triggered by a very severe case of mono that potentially caused an auto immune disorder. My primary lingering symptoms are the fatigue, brain fog and chronic migraines, they are no longer trying to figure out what type of autoimmune disorder I have. As part of my journey I have tried so many treatments to feel better and I wanted to share because I finally found a treatment that has helped me more than anything else I've tried so far.
The treatment is wearing theraspec indoor glasses, believe it or not. This has helped more than any medication I've tried or alternative therapy I've tried. I never even considered myself that light sensitive, but theraspecs were on my list of potential migraine treatments to try so I figured why not, it can't hurt. The moment I put them on I immediately felt my current migraine decrease and I've barely taken them off ever sent. I would say my daily pain went from a 6/7 on average to a 3/4 on average the past couple of days.
I just wanted to share my story with everyone, don't stop trying new treatments, as crazy as they might sound. You never know what will help! Below I'll list other treatments I've tried in case anyones got questions and also to give a scope of the amount of things I've tried, most with minimal or no success.

• Rescue Medications: Migranal, Alleve, Sumatriptan Injection, benadryl, reglan, cambia, dramamine, zofran, estradiol, ketorolac, naratriptan, nurtec, promethazine, reyvow, Excedrin Migraine, tramadol, acetomanaphine with codeine, frovatriptan, predisone block, treximet
• Preventative Medications: Magnesium supplement, cyproheptadine, divalproex sodium, atenolol, propranolol, norityptiline, amitriptyline, duloxetine, probiotics, plaquinel, quinacrine, vitamin d, vitamin b12, aimovig, emgality, verapamil, gabapentin, topamax, dexamethasone, iron supplement, lyrica, melatonin, variety of non hormone and hormone birth controls
• Procedures: Botox, SPG Block, Outpatient IV Therapy with DHE, Mirena, Nexplanon
• Devices: Gammacore, Nerivio, Oxygen Therapy via Oxygen Tanks
• Alternative Medicine: Physical Therapy, Acupuncture, Biofeedback Therapy, 4+ month strict gluten free diet

And I'm probably forgetting some but that's what I remember at the moment, including basic lifestyle changes like more sleep, more water, healthier food, etc. So don't give up hope! There are so many things to try, something will work for you!
PS: If anyone has tips about how they handle their light sensitivity please share as I'll be diving deeper into this area considering my theraspecs success.

I'm 25 years old, middle eastern trans woman. Currently not taking any medications, not seeking any therapy or cure process. At least I seem healthy. Maybe taking one or two acetaminophenes a day (not codeine) for pain relief or something.
I was in a crowded place a few days ago (we just followed all health protocols. Wearing face masks, using a lot of hand sanitizers, etc.). It was for doing an important job in the office I work for and it took 4-5 hours. In social networks, it had a bad impressions and a lot of people attacked us so it made me a bit nervous.
This morning, I also had a struggle with someone in the chat room and after that, a pain started in my left ear. It's not so long the pain started, it's now in my left temple and left side of my head. I don't feel dizzy or something, but I think it affects my sight, as I'm writing this, I have some problems seeing the characters in their regular order. BTW, putting every single app or website on dark mode, made it a bit better.
Is this a migrane? I think it's really close to migrane specially as I make my place dark it gets better. Also, I have to say I am some sort of hypochondric and the current world situation of COVID-19, scares the hell out of me every time I have to go outside.

Age:25
Weight:176lb
Duration/location: started 4-5 hours ago.
Past and Current medical issue: very bad constipation 7-6 hours ago. fever, sore tonsil, migrane and constant urination started 4-5 hours and getting worse.
Medication: codeine syrup 7ml (1.5 hrs ago) prescribed for me previously and 500 ml paracetamol (0.5 hour ago).
It all happened very quickly. I randomly start feeling my tonsil getting sore. About 15 min later all my muscles feel weak. I sat on my couch to rest and then took flonase nasal route 3.5 hrs ago. I started feeling more and more drained. Half hour to an hour later I got chills and soon after started getting a migrane. Migrane, fatigue and fever kept on getting worse. Now I've had a fever of 102 for the last 45 minutes or so.
I know from google that 102 is ok... its 103 thats dangerous. What Ive never experienced is the quick onset. Should I got to the ER?

Long story, but I think it'll help to get it out. (This turned into one hell of a wall of text. Sorry)
She was never terribly easy to live with. You never knew until that first conversation if today was going to be happy Megan, or angry Megan, or sick Megan, bored Megan... She often had issues that caused her to not help around the house. Fibromayalgia, which may have just been Vitamin D deficiencies, migranes, back issues. She loved dogs, but tended not to give them a fair shake. She'd get a new dog because she got the urge, and this dog was perfect. Until it wasn't. Then she'd rehome that dog and get another. We must have gone through a dozen dogs, easily, over the years. We were up to five dogs at once, at one point. She even started breeding dogs. Had one litter of goldendoodles. Great dogs. Everyone was happy with them. She even got one (different breeder) once we were done. Then she decided that she wanted to focus on small dogs. Rehomed the Golden, and then the goldendoodle. She had already gotten a couple of Havanese, and was planning on breeding them. It was, effectively, her job. She was a stay-at-home mom. She recently discovered that she was allergic to dogs, and decided to give her chihuahua, which she loved deeply, to her mother, and a month or two later, after trying 2 or 3 different 'replacement' dogs decided on a boulanese, and he's a great dog. Stuck by her, like she wanted, and slept with her. She was thrilled with the dog.
She had just been diagnosed as bi-polar, and the doctor gave her some new medications to try. They worked well. She was happy and positive most of the time. She even decided to go back home for a few days to visit her parents, using the $40 plane ticket she managed to snag a few months ago and had planned the trip just in case she wanted to go. She gets stressed quite easily by her mom, who tends to be judgemental of her, so to go there without me as support was quite a task. She takes her new dog with her. An emotional support animal, as it was.
Things went well. Really well. She got along great with her mom and sister, and everyone was happy. The dog did great. Stayed with her, almost no accidents. She had her usual medical issues, back pain, a nagging kidney infection, and a cough, apparently. She got some new antibiotics which were supposed to take care of things once and for all, and some pain meds, and some cough syrup with codeine. See, she had issues with taking too many pain meds in the past, as she's had pain issues for a long time. I often fought with her to take fewer, but she hadn't taken any. She was proud of herself for having access to hydrocodone without me to control them, but taking only a small amount. She was in control.
I was watching the kids by myself for the past week, while she was away. This was nothing unusual, as I did most of the work around the house since she was often sleeping because of a migraine or because she was sick for one reason or the other. We drove up the two hours to the airport, as the airline that flies for much cheaper only flies out of that airport, and not our local one. Two kids, 6 (almost 7) and 10. We picked her up at the airport, but instead of heading home, we were staying overnight at a hotel. She wanted to take the kids to a local tourist attraction. She loved that touristy crap. I can't stand it, but the kids would likely enjoy it.
It was late, so we left the kids in the hotel (they do fine for short stints) to go and get dinner as a couple. She had taken a bit too much cough syrup, and was a little drowsy, but otherwise fine. We had mexican, and talked about how good of a trip sh had. We talked about plans for the future. She was adamant that this crop of dogs was it. She was done. They were perfect and she wasn't going to rehome them. She was going to get back in shape, lose weight. She was determined, and it seemed she really meant it this time. The medication was really helping her.
We went back to the room got ready for bed. She had some trouble peeing (a side effect from the pain meds) and gave up trying since she was too tired. She insisted I give her a foot massage. "You promised." "No, you asked and I didn't say no." I was a little annoyed since it was already really late and I knew the kids would be up early and we'd not get enough sleep. I gave her the massage, she complimented me, that I was really good at it, (sure... she just wants more foot massages) and then we went to bed.
I wake up and it's quiet. The 6yo is up too, and he starts playing on his tablet. I get up and take a couple tylenol for my headache. Go to the bathroom, take a shower, get the kids, who are both awake now, a snack and try to keep them quiet, so as not to wake up mommy. They go out on the balcony to look at the surf, wanting to go down to play. Maybe later. We'll need to check out soon. I take the dog, who was sleeping on her bed, out for a walk. Come back up to the room and it's time for her to get up so we have time to check out.
I rub her arm. "Hun, it's 10:30. We have to check out soon." Pull back the covers shielding her eyes from the sun. There's something wrong. Her face is splotchy red. I check her pulse and can't feel anything. I rush to the phone and call for an ambulance. Shove her towards the middle of the bed and pull her onto her back so I can do my shitty attempt at CPR. I know how these things work, and it becomes obvious quite quickly that she's already gone, but I must try. I'm screaming out her name hoping against hope that she'll wake up. My 6yo son doesn't have a clue what's going on and is laughing, thinking it's a game. My 10yo daughter... "Mommy? Wake up Mommy!" softly. It'll haunt me forever. The hotel manager arrived and asked what was wrong. I told him as I kept trying, exhausted. The paramedics arrived a short time later. They knew, and didn't even make an attempt. The hotel wisked the kids away to be taken care of elsewhere. I sat on the floor next to her bed, sobbing uncontrollably, holding her hand. The police arrived, and asked their questions.
The police help me out to a chair they've placed in the hallway. I sat with the dog in my lap. He sat calmly and enjoyed his pets. The detectives arrive and ask more questions. Then I make the call to my parents. Then her parents. Hard calls to make when I can barely keep it together myself. I'm taken down to the kids. 6yo still doesn't really get it. 10yo understands and cries a bit with me. Then the coroner comes by and it's done. Nothing left to do but go home. They don't even know what happened. They have more tests to do and won't know for a couple months.
I talked about the bad, but when she was in a good mood, it was good. We got along great. We enjoyed much of the same things. I even read the twilight books to understand her obsession with them. Watched the movies countless times. We watched Archer together, Game of Thrones, lots of shows. We liked most of the same movies. Had the same sense of humor. I could predict what she wanted just based on a simple saying or an expression. "How do you do that?! I want a divorce!" She'd say, jokingly. She expressed to her mother, while on her trip, how much she loved me, and how lucky she was to have someone who put up with her when she was moody. I mention the bad because now she was good, most of the time. The past couple weeks were real good. She was feeling much better. I had put in a lot of 'work' over the years, and it was going to pay off. We'd found a good combination of medications to keep her stable and she was happy.
I find little memes that I know she'd like, or watch a show she'd enjoy, or any number of things, and I can't show her. Who am I going to watch Game of Thrones with? Who do I tell how my day went? or how I finally took care of this or that. Who do I discuss my plans for taking care of the yard, or vent about little annoyances? I have my family, and I have her family, and we can talk about the big things, but no one wants to hear about the little things.
She had planned a trip for us, while the kids were visiting her parents during the summer. We were going to Colorado to go up the mountains. Seattle and Oregon to see some sites and visit her sister, and finally to Vegas to find the place where we first saw each other. Cancelling that trip was hard. Really hard.
The kids have been fine, or at least act fine. I had taken care of them mostly by myself anyway, so this hasn't been much of a change, but I know there'll come a time when it'll effect them more, and it hurts to know what they'll go through.
She was a bit of a PITA to deal with, from time to time, but she was my Megan, and I loved her so, and she loved me.
I know things will get better. Time heals all wounds, as they say. I can handle things. I can take care of the kids. I can keep the house clean. I can do it all. I'll be fine, eventually. Not that it matters now. Rationality takes a back seat to raw emotion.
Everyone offers their condolences. "If there's anything you need." but we both know the thing I need is the thing I can't have. They'll pray for me. "God bless" me and all that. Mildly annoying as I'm an atheist, as was she. But I understand they mean well.
I'm alone now with the kids. Everyone's gone home. Relatives are coming to take care of the kids for a week once school's out, before they fly to her parents for a pre-planned summer trip. Had to change the flight plans as she was going to fly out with them, spend some more time with her parents, fly back, then fly out later to bring the kids home. Changed the tickets to 'unaccompanied minor' tickets. Fucking hell...
This shit sucks.

3 months ago against all medical advice and medical history my doctor put me onto seroquel from me normal medication (valium 5mg) and it was a very low dose for me as last time i took seroquel i was put straight onto the 600mg dose split into 200mg 3 times daily now this time i has serous issues my heart rate resting went from 65 to 120 thats 120bpm resting if i walked to the other side of the room it shot to 180 and walking from one end of the hospital to the other i blacked out 2 or 3 times at 194bpm i've had to have a few extended hospital stays and 3 days ago my doctor said he would stop the seroquel and i should expect extreme withdrawals from it. but he put me on a 5x higher dose of my other medication (abilify 10mg 2x a day) my abilify is now up to 100mg at 50mg (2x10mg 1x30mg) 2x daily my other meds conflict with the abilify as well im currently on
pristiq 150mg 2x daily valproate 1500 night 500 morning abilify 50mg morning 50mg night nexium 3 - 5 times daily 20mg valium as needed sumatriptan (migraine prevention medication - as needed) prochlorperazine 5mg 2x daily for vertigo doxycycline for skin issues codeine/paracetamol 30/500 as needed for migrane's ferro-grad c for vitimain c replacement as my body does not seem to produce anywhere near enough testosterone boosters shots. vitamin d as my body has all but stoped production of it for some unknown reason. (all levels are checked per 7 days at the moment) locacorten vioform for a ear infection (2 years + now) amoxycillin and clavulanic acid for varous things my body seems to be having issues fighting off
currently im having extreme audio/visual hallucinations and panic attacks as well as being on the extreme end of a manic episode pushing 3 months now im up for up to 72 hours at a time and even with valium i can not sleep. i rarely eat as well. i have not left my room in my house apart from hospital visits and doctors visits. i was tested and diagnosed with bipolar 2/personality disorder 4 years ago and after seeing my mother and grandmother and my sister and other members of my family suffer through it for many many years (mums 45 and was tested and diagnosed at 37) i did not want to admit it was problem i still refuse to admit i have it around others. i have so much fear so much pain and self doubt. so many people look down on me for it. my own family feel if i dont treat it there way and inorge the problem and do everything 200% better then everyone else im not worthy to breath air. i have signs of extreme ptsd from being moved around extremely abusive foster homes and being forced to live on the streets by family for a few years. my own family was extremely abusive and some still are even now that im comming up on 21. i dont drink i dont smoke i dont drive more then once a month as i get extreme panic attacks and the like. the presure on me has reached new extremes lately. i use gaming and graphic work and pc building to vent i live in a very small town with less then 60 people and i cant get out of the town everyone here is 40 years older everyone is hostile they see me as some sort of enemy or something. i don't leave the house as people from around the area have taken to abusing me or attacking me or outright trying to assault me. the town is small enough and far enough from the city that we do not have cops or firefighters and the ambos take over an hour to respond even with heart attacks. i dont know what to do i dont know where i go from here. i cant afford anything else. i can hardly afford food. and its getting harder. the government system changes mean in the coming weeks i will see my medications go up and my medical payments go down. i'm living off so little i cant even pay for basics. even medication is becoming hard to afford. phones don't work here we don't even have a phone line. there are no towers. everything is satellite based and extremely costly (100mb for 50 dollars) i can not for the life of me see any way to get out and the only doctor i can see sees me for 5 minutes tells me hes doing medication changes or nothing at all and kicks me out. not talking no support no help. nothing.
i'm honestly on the edge of ending it all. i have been for months but i cant bring my self to do it after losing my ex that way. i know how much it will hurt those i love but i don't see any way out. the debts are already building and i cant pay them and i have 2 extensions and in some cases 3. in just power i owe my monthly wage 5x over. and we have no water without the power as were on tanks. i dread the day they turn off the power as they will turn off the water at the same time. i dont know what to do from here. i cant afford help and this may well be it.

Hey, Guys,
I'm going to the 30 Seconds to Mars concert with my wife at the Riverstage at the end of March, but ... we've never been there before! So we don't know what to expect.
Looking at the admissions page is confusing as hell. In one part, we can bring 'sealed unopened water bottles/empty water bottles for filling at Riverstage's free water stations', but in the next section 'you cannot bring ... full (or empty) beverage bottles, cans or containers of any kind'.
Apparently we can't bring 'cameras/video or audio recorders of any type', so we're not even sure if we can bring our phones! God forbid we need to call a taxi afterwards!
'A personal safety and security search is a condition of entry.' It's been a long time since I went to any sort of concert, and there weren't 'personal searches' when I did. What do we expect with that? Have the TSA started up in Australia? Can I cancel my doctor's appointment for my prostate check? Am I gonna have to punch a security guard for molesting my wife? Cause that'll make it a real short concert experience when I'm dragged away by the police!
My wife gets migranes from the cinema, so she's sure to get one going to the concert (she's a big fan, though, so she wants to go anyway - this is the 4th time she's tried to see them, and she actually managed to score tickets this time). Can she take a card of codeine for after the show, or is that 'prohibited?'
'No passouts'. Are there toilets there, or is it just a big, grassy field? Which could be considered a toilet by some people, I suppose ... but not by us!
Also, we paid for actual seating when the concert was on at the Entertainment Centre (there were seated areas and floor space, and we chose seats). Since it was cancelled there and 're-venued' to the Riverstage, is there anywhere we can sit besides grass, where hundreds/thousands of people will be standing in front of us? Can we take a picnic blanket? We're getting on a bit (she's thinking about considering her late 30's and I'm cantankerously embracing my early 40's, dagnabbit) and wouldn't mind not being caught in a mosh pit!
I know I sound pretty naive about it all. I haven't been to a concert since Bob Dylan in the early 90s. So, basically, can anyone who's been there before tell us what it's like? What we're 'allowed' to take? How 'TSA' is the 'personal search?' Is there a chance we can find somewhere to sit? That sort of thing.
Thanks!
-abexandagoodliedown

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 4.5 , Part 5 , Part 5.5 , A warning , or Click here for the song.
“I feel... thin - sort of stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread.” Illness will do that to you. So will an extended period of fear.
I finished my university exams in mid-December, and briefly felt as though a weight had been lifted from my mind. I had felt a little ill during the whole period, but now relished my chance to relax. Unfortunately, instead of starting to feel better, I felt worse. Pain was growing in my lower back – in my spine, in my pelvis, under my ribs. I refused to go to the doctors for some reason, thinking I would be back to normal soon enough. I didn’t expect it to get so much worse in such a short period of time.
We had booked a train ticket each to get home for Christmas, and by the time I realized something was badly wrong it was only two days before we were due to travel. In my sick state, I adamantly refused to go to the hospital until I arrived home. I knew they would keep me in, and I didn’t want to be away from my family over Christmas. Those last two days passed in a blur. My boyfriend set me up on our sofa with a thick quilt and dim lighting; the glare from the light had been giving me migranes. I didn’t move if I could help it. Chunks of my memory have disappeared. I remember stupid, insignificant things, like the way the bare skin of my legs stuck to the leather sofa, even though I felt as though I was freezing cold. The way I couldn’t focus on my boyfriends concerned face, because his eyes were too bright and they made my headache worse.
Eventually the day came to travel. My boyfriend bundled me into a taxi. The driver, worried, asked him if I was alright, if it might be better to just take me to the hospital. My teeth chattered as I slumped against the window, insisting that I needed to get to the train station. I needed to get home, I needed to get to my parents - to cool, soothing hands and proclamations that everything would be alright. The journey out from Dundee passed in a feverish blur. When we stopped at Edinburgh train station to transfer to a train headed for England, I clung to my boyfriend and stumbled to the platform with my eyes shut against the bright light. He settled me into our seats on the train and headed to the buffet cart to find a bottle of water. I gazed out of the window, my eyes half closed and unfocused, as the landscape whipped past. I couldn’t force the words from my mouth to tell him that I saw her climb, lithe and twisted, up the side of the train. I stared, revolted, out of the window as chunks of her hair blew loose in the wind past my window. Soon, I passed out.
The next thing I knew, I was lying down in the backseat of my father’s car. He had come to collect us from the train station and, after taking one look at me, set out for the hospital. Doctors took my blood, poked and prodded, and checked my temperature. They spoke in hushed voices to my father as they attached a white band to my wrist, and made quieting noises as I weakly protested when they inserted a cannula into the crook of my right elbow. I was admitted into the surgical assessment unit that night with what I later learned to be a very high fever, severe dehydration, a bad kidney infection and inflammation of the bones in my lower back. It was pure agony; I couldn’t move.
One good thing about being taken into hospital was that the doctor gave me a cocktail of painkillers to quiet the pain. Another positive was that I met Dora.
After visiting hours ended on the first night of my admittance, I lay in bed and cried. I missed my family, my boyfriend, my home. I was worried and scared about being kept in hospital, and I thought that I must be seriously ill. I tossed and turned, damp skin sticking to the thin bed sheets, the cover wrapping itself around my legs as I writhed. My head felt too heavy for my body, like the dull aching pain at the base of my neck was not the muscles going into spasm but turning to lead, weighting me down against the pillow. When you find yourself in such a vulnerable state, unable to move, you can’t help but panic. I rolled onto my side, and watched the nurses strip the bed next to me and prepare it for its next occupant – Dora. As soon as she was settled into her bed, she turned to me and smiled.
“Oh, poppet! You look terrified! Don’t you worry, they’ll take good care of you here.”
Dora told me that she was 86, and she had been in hospital for more of the year than she had been out of it. She was chipper in spite of her ill health, and moaned about how she couldn’t curl her shock of white hair while she was stuck in a bed with drips attached to her arms. She wanted to look presentable. Dora entertained me until the early hours of the morning with stories of how she had been a nurse when she met her husband more than 50 years ago. She told me of how they loved driving out to the countryside and camping, how she loved spending time with just him and nature. They had two children and six grandchildren; her shaking hands opened her purse and she showed me pictures of each of them. She proudly told me how her daughter was a lawyer, and her son was a chemistry teacher. Dora said that her family was the only thing that had kept her going since her husband has passed away the year before to lung cancer, and I saw her smile falter for a second. She grinned again though, and told me of how she’d been skiing in the Alps and how fantastic it was. She asked me questions about myself, about my hobbies. I told her that I loved to read, especially classic fairytales. She loved to knit, and promised to make me a scarf to keep me warm when I was released in a few days, as she was sure I would be. I fell asleep, calmed.
At dusk the next day, a new admission was brought in to my ward. She was swaddled in blankets, but I could see how thin she was. I could almost feel the sickness radiating from her. The nurses fixed her pillows and settled her in for the night, and the woman groaned in agreement. Her breathing was laboured, and I remember the moment I recognised it. My heart began to pound, and droplets of sweat collected on my brow as my shaking fingers pressed the button to call a nurse over.
When the nurse reached me, I softly told her that I needed to move, that I felt that something was wrong. I couldn’t stay here. She wouldn’t listen. She took my pulse and informed me that I was tachycardic, told me that it was probably just due to the pain and not the panic I felt growing in my stomach. She gave me more morphine and I felt my eyelids flutter shut.
I woke to feel my skin crawling. The dull ache in my spine had spread to my neck, and as I tried to turn my head a sharp pain shot through me. I knew someone was near me but couldn’t move to see who, so I strained my ears to listen. The silence of the ward was only punctuated by the gentle beep of the monitors until I really focused. I heard a familiar rasping inward breath, and my stomach plummeted as she moved closer. The wheels of the stand her i.v. bag was attached to scraped against the floor as she shuffled towards me; the smell of decay wafted over my face. I felt tears slide down my right cheek, making tracks from my left eye over my nose until they could join into one trail. She lowered her face in front of mine, and I squeezed my eyes shut. She reached forward and placed her thumbs on my eyelids, roughly pulling them upwards. I felt my eyelashes loosen and fall.
As she opened my eyes, I whimpered. She smiled; the black skin around her thin, chapped lips cracked and she moistened it with a black, greasy tongue. My breath came quicker; it felt heavy in my throat as I exhaled. I knew the morphine, the codeine, the cocktail of drugs I had been given could be causing me to hallucinate. She pointed to my i.v. bag and let out a short, rasping burst of laughter.
I looked towards Dora, and saw the fear in her eyes as she watched me. She was trying to call for help by pressing the buzzer, but her shaking hands dropped it and it clattered under the bed. The creature whipped her head to face Dora, and she snarled at Dora’s gasp of fear.
The creature reached towards the point where the i.v. tube met my arm, and twisted it. Blood rushed back up the tube, and I whimpered. Bubbles appeared, and I watched them float lazily in the liquid as she shuffled to the other side of my bed. The light on the tube was blocked as Dora rose out of bed and headed towards me, but it was too late. The creature reached under the quilt and placed her hand on my lower spine as Dora lunged towards her. I felt a crack, and the bubbles faded out of view.
When I woke in the morning, I was perplexed. If the creature had found me so vulnerable, how was I still alive? I found myself able to move and turned to ask Dora, but the bed was empty. When a nurse came by to change my i.v. bag, I asked her where Dora had gone.
“Who?” She asked, perplexed. The bed had been empty for the past two days. The bed in which the creature had lain was empty too. The nurse informed me that its occupant had checked herself out.
I was taken for an xray and told that my lower spine looked like I had been in a car crash. There was nothing they could do; an operation would be too dangerous. I slept in confusion, and dreamt in high detail about the dark, twisting shadows in the hospital corridors being broken by a bright light.
I spent my last day in hospital sleeping, and my last night in a state of confusion. I wondered what had happened. I convinced myself that the drugs had made me have an incredibly vivid hallucination, but couldn’t explain why I kept finding loose eyelashes in my bed, or what had happened to my spine.
When I got home the next day, my mother helped me shuffle to my bedroom. Lying on the bed was a gift wrapped in red paper, with a gold bow stuck on the top. There was no note. My mother informed me that a very kind gentleman had dropped it off the night before, saying that his wife had befriended me in hospital before she had sadly passed away. Mother had invited him in for a cup of tea, but he had smiled and said that he needed to get back to his wife. My mother had smiled back at him and it wasn’t until he had left that she had felt puzzled.
I sat down on the edge of the bed and looked at the gift, pondering what it might be. As I opened the present, my eyes filled. It was a scarf, emblazoned with a picture of Pinocchio. He was smiling, and dancing above the words “When you wish upon a star”.