Benadryl Cures Brain Tumors

There I was, sitting in a ketchy little restaurant, listening to a friend chat, when all of a sudden, I turned my head toward a noise I heard and the next thing I know, my head is reeling, my stomach is churning and everything went blurry.  I quickly turned back to face my friend which was a huge mistake, because as I looked at her, she became very distorted and her words were slow and drawn out and I honestly cannot imagine the look I must have had on my face.  But not wanting to upset her or make an ass of myself, I casually leaned my head over and supported it coyly with one hand.  Little did she know, I was on the verge of passing out.  I had no idea why.  I had no clue why the room was spinning, or why I couldn't hear her or why I was going to pass out.  I just knew I was.  I didn't want to be rude and interrupt her, to forewarn her, yet I didn't want to surprise her with my collapse either.  Panic overwhelmed me and soon my heart was racing and I thought, "Jesus Christ.  I'm having a stroke.  Or a heart attack.  And this is NOT going to end well.  I'm going to be completely embarrassed here at this ketchy little restaurant.  This is EXACTLY why I don't leave the house.  You just never know when you might fucking pass out."  Somehow, through the Grace of God, I was able to pull my shit together and NOT pass out and I never mentioned it to her either.  I just kept praying that I could make it to my car without falling down in the parking lot.  And that I could make it home without passing out and killing myself and others in the process. 

With each turn and twist in the road, it would hit me again.  Dizzy.  Blurry.  Nausea.  GREAT.  I HAVE A FUCKING BRAIN TUMOR.  This is how it's going to end.  A stupid fucking brain tumor.  I always knew I'd have some fucked up ending to this story and this is the ultimate kick in the ass.  And it made me think of the movie Phenomenon.  Where John Travolta gets uber smart and figures out a bunch of shit and so I started thinking about what shit I would figure out with my brain tumor assistant.  And they play that super fun and happy music throughout.  I love that movie.  I think I even have the soundtrack.  And I'm always like, "Hey!!!  Let's watch Phenomenon!!!"  And the husband obliges and we sit down to watch it and I'm all smiling and laughing and HOLY FUCKING SHIT JESUS H. CHRIST WHAT THE FUCK?  HE FUCKING DIES?  OH.MY.GOD.  TURN IT OFF.  TURN IT OFF.  IT'S SO FUCKING SAD!  WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME HE DIES?  I HATE THIS FUCKING SAD MOVIE. 

I forget that part EVERY TIME I watch that movie.  I think the last time I watched it, I marked on the DVD box in black sharpie:  FYI DIPSHIT:  HE DIES IN THE END. 

So anyway, I managed to make it home without crashing, and participated in a conference call and even managed to operate my vehicle to and from the office later in the afternoon.  And when my husband got home and asked how my day was, I was all, "It fucking SUCKED."  And he's all, "So did mine!"  And I'm like, "Yeh?  Well I have a god damned brain tumor."  And he looked a little miffed that my day was worse than his because I think he thought he was going to get to do all the talking last night.  He was so fucking miffed as a matter of fact, that he didn't even ask HOW I got the brain tumor.  Ass.  He was just like, "Oh.  I need a beer." 

And I needed a beer too.  But the brain tumor doesn't like beer and it acted up and started revolting and making me act more crazy and dizzy and sending me reeling like I'd been on a tilt-a-whirl marathon.  And everytime I tried to focus on something, it would punch me behind the eyes so I couldn't see what I was looking at.  And when a colleague arrived at 4:30 for a scheduled meeting, he was all, "today isn't a very good day to meet because I'm in a shitty fucking mood."  And I'm like, "No shit.  I have a brain tumor."  And he's like, "WHAT?  When did you find that out, because you didn't seem like yourself earlier today and I wondered what was wrong" and unlike the husband, he seemed VERY concerned about me.  So I was like, "I diagnosed myself about 1:30 this afternoon." 

And he started busting a gut laughing.  WHAT.THE.FUCK?  Who laughs at someone with a brain tumor?  Stupid sonofabitch.  I guess he forgot he reports to me.  So I made a mental note to fire his ass at the first given opportunity.  Talk about poor judgment.  That right there was a career limiting move. 

The husband, being the medical genius that he is, says, "Maybe it's just your sinuses, why don't you just take some Benadryl and go to bed."  Seriously?  My sinuses?  It was clear he was still jealous that my day was worse than his and he wanted me to go to bed so he could tell the dog all about his shitty fucking day without me interrupting him.  But I took the Benadryl anyway, since the brain tumor hated him about as much as Aunt Flo does and I knew it would make me tired and plus it was like a great excuse to just go to bed and not have to a single chore all evening.  That was at 7:30 last night.  When I woke up 11 hours later, the brain tumor was gone!  No more vertigo!!  No more blurred vision!!  I'm CURED!!!  YAY!!!!   Praise Jesus!!! 

When the husband asked me how I felt this morning, I of course told the truth:  "I STILL FEEL LIKE SHIT AND STILL HAVE THIS BRAIN TUMOR"  ......  that should get me out of chores again today.  Plus, I don't like him thinking he's the brains of this operation over here.