A Grandiose Delusion of Thumping Winnie’s Bagpipes

Post CCV

Here’s the story of ignorance, co-codamol, and a goldfish.

There I was one minute, trying to fix a toy dinosaur spaceship, as you do, and the next, the entire world turned into a psychedelic lovefest. All swirls and ripples of every colour of the rainbow, a tempestuous sea of the brightest colours. Flashes of geometric shapes coloured in black and white flashed across my field of vision like strobe lights at a discotheque. And merry squiggles danced over the waves of multicoloured hues, each sparkling like cannon fire being launched from pirate ships. Needless to say, I found the whole experience rather nauseating and I started to wonder if the local water supply had been spiked. And who would do such a thing in… northeast… England – actually, it’s entirely believable…

I suppose there remained a possibility it was lead poisoning because the toy was made in China. And it has been at the mercy of primary school children for well over a decade. It’s a hard toy to describe. Imagine the lovechild of a giant green dinosaur, a spaceship and a helicopter. With a magnetic grabber device. And a pilot who looks like Winnie the Pooh on cocaine. Wearing a watch that reads… ooh, five. Quitting time. Actually, it does say ‘Disney’ on the back. Why would Winnie be riding a helicopter? Naked. Well, he’s wearing a vest but no trousers or underpants. He has an ejector seat in his chopper. Not very powerful, though. He sort of just flops out meaning he would be caught up in any crash, which certainly wouldn’t be the greatest loss in the history of the world…

Honestly, why toy designers don’t hire me I’ll never know. Just give kids a cardboard box. It’s all I ever needed.

It was a migraine, not lead poisoning. I get many migraines. So many I have to keep a record. Date. Type. Time. Treatment. Pain level. Always starts with swirly vision, a cacophony of colour and lights. Lasts around half an hour. Toward the end, my eyeballs then start to feel like someone is crushing them. Then I’m fine for about ten minutes. Then my head starts to feel like it’s imploding. This was my seventh of the year. I’m well on course to beat my record of 23 of last year…

The recommended advice in the event of a migraine is paracetamol, but honestly, whichever dingus came up with that needs his head examining. What you need is two co-codamol. Now, a doctor would say that’s like trying to put out a small pan fire with 10 fire extinguishers, and yes, that doctor may have a point. But have you ever actually taken two co-codamol? Because the world becomes very… existentialist. I’d rather be high than mildly better off.

I don’t know what it is about co-codamol, but it makes me very drowsy and not really ‘there’, if you know what I mean. When people say things, it sounds like a hummingbird whistling Greensleeves. It’s very hard to concentrate on what someone is saying. Their lips are just flaps of skin blowing in the wind. You also get this uncontrollable urge to sing pop classics from the ‘80s. But you can’t go to sleep because then the migraine returns. It’s a very odd drug, is co-codamol. That or they never tested it on someone like me.

A plain old paracetamol is a pussy by comparison. It’s like fighting that pan fire with nothing but good will…

At least I hope it’s co-codamol. Might be something a tad stronger. If this Winnie thingy starts dancing, we’ll soon have our answer.

Many folk would go to see a doctor if the migraine count rose to 23, especially considering I’m a dude. Last time I checked. I shouldn’t be writing this whilst I’m still on the co-codamol, should I? Hmm, anyway, I’m not a doctor person. There are two types of people. Those who choose to ignore the migraines because they fear the doctor will give them bad news – like a giant tumour or something – and those who choose to go to the doctor and face what could be certain death. If you’ve visited any of my three blogs before, I’m fairly confident you know which type I am.

I’d rather die in ignorance. If I am told I’m gonna die, I’m not the type of person who would spend their remaining days bungee jumping. Why would you? It’s highly illogical. I’d rather make jam. At least you won’t die making jam. I mean, sure you’re gonna die anyway, but would you rather die peacefully in your sleep surrounded by your loved ones or would you rather die slamming face first into a ravine? The only way jam making is going to kill you is if you make it surrounded by bears. And that’s highly unlikely. I’m pretty sure they’re busy anyway, you know, ripping Goldilocks apart…

I have greater peace of mind not knowing what’s coming than knowing what is coming. It’s just the way I am. Nobody knows I suffer from migraines. I don’t tell anyone because they’d make a fuss and drag me kicking and screaming to the doctors. I don’t tell my family. If I had friends, I wouldn’t tell them. I don’t tell my optician, even when she asks me if I get migraines. If I ever get my first girlfriend, I wouldn’t tell her. But I am more likely to win the lottery than get my first girlfriend. Several times, probably. And I’m only telling you guys because you don’t know me. In fact, the only living soul that I ever told about my migraines was Maggie. My goldfish. What? Hey, Maggie is a very common name for a goldfish. Don’t speak ill of the dead.

I loved that fish. She was really sweet. I loved her. Gee, she was only two days old when I got her. Lived over 10 years. She became very ill and had a very slow death. I sat by her side for as many minutes of that week as possible. By the end, she started throwing up her food. I know, I didn’t know fish could vomit, either. After she died, we wrapped her in a red cloth and buried her in the back garden. I was tempted to play Amazing Grace on the bagpipes but I thought better of it. This is the life of an 17-year-old friendless virgin. And a 25-year-old one…

But I’m soldiering on. Still a tad tripped out and coughing because I struggle to swallow things whole. Three attempts to get those pills down. The water was going everywhere. I got a big wet patch really high up on my bedroom wall. Looks like a giant peed on it. My eyes are red from watering so much. Needless to say, I’m not in the best condition. I am going to have to think of a wonderful lie if a police officer knocks on the door asking if I know anything about a newly discovered local cannabis farm.

“Erm, no. And may I add, you look awfully pretty today, officer?”

I ignore the pain of migraines like I ignore the doctors. They don’t exist in my world. Nothing could make me go to one. I might die younger than perhaps was intended, but I tell you this, readers, it’s been a life well lived. We all gotta go at some point.

I made this point to my sister-in-law a few years ago. She’s a health freak. Healthy food and exercise – the lot. She told me that I didn’t exercise. That I ate only junk. And all that’s true. But if I become her, good food and exercise, yes, I’ll live a lot longer. But in those extra 10 or even 20 years, I’ll be miserable. Whereas burgers and bacon make me happy. I’d rather die younger with veins full of fat and be happy, than older with veins full of salad and be miserable. We all gotta die. I’d rather go choking on bacon than choking on an apple.

And in many ways, that’s my attitude to migraines. Die in ignorance and be happy than live in fear and die in world of misery and tears.

It’s a message of ‘do as I say, not as I do.’ Because if you’re not well, get help. Live a good and healthy life. I’m not because I couldn’t care less, but you should. You see? Really? God, really? I sure don’t…

Oh, and in case you’re wondering, this Winnie helicopter spaceship dinosaur thing, isn’t for me. It’s for one of my nephews, who was born three months ago. Lives in Australia. Gonna see him for the first time in two months, all being well.

He’s gonna be bitterly disappointed, though, because not only have I failed to fix this toy, I’ve actually made it worse. When I started, the ejector seat actually worked. Now if something goes wrong, I guess we got fried bear for supper.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got the munchies…

An anonymous person once said, “Everybody is a genius. But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid.”

Peace Out :|:

Image: 1) The ‘Winnie the Pooh’ Bear (credit: me)

I’d love to hear your thoughts on this post. You can leave a comment and/or like this post below, or by clicking the title on the top of this post if you are on the archives page. Likes and follows greatly appreciated. Thanks.

Please feel free check out the latest posts from my other two blogs:

To Contrive & Jive
New Posts Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday
Click Here to Read the Latest Post

Hark Around the Words
New Posts Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday
Click Here to Read the Latest Post


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s