Fibro Flare, Friendly Ethiopian, and Fathead
In the very early morning hours of Monday, around 3 AM, I was jolted awake by PAIN. I immediately knew it was a Fibromyalgia flare-up, but it was the absolute worst one I've ever had. Yesterday was spent "enjoying" a full-body sensation that could only be described as the bastard child of an abscessed tooth and childhood growing pains, magnified a hundredfold. Misery was the word of the day.
Thankfully, today, I had an appointment with the pain management doctor. She checked me out, focusing on typical hot spots on the body that Fibromyalgia just loves to ravage with pain. When she saw tears pooling in my eyes, she ordered me an industrial sized shot of anti-inflammatory steroids. She also called me in a prescription for another kind of anti-inflammatory that I'm not supposed to begin until Thursday, so I'm going to wait to pick that up, considering I can't seem to blink my eyes without excruciating effort.
Since Matt had mentioned he needed to use the car this morning, I took an Orange Cab to and from the docs. The cab driver who brought me back home was a lady who had driven me somewhere once before. On the way, we struck up a conversation about family, work, illness, and grieving. I asked her if she was a native San Diegan. That's when she told me she was Ethiopian. I remarked that I'd always wanted to visit Ethiopia and even wrote an Ethiopian Vampire into my books (the dashing Mephistopheles, Rebekah's immortal mate). When we got to the house, I decided to pay the fare with my debit card, and give her a cash tip that was half of what the fare was. Since cabbies are usually only tipped at 10-20% of the fare, this kind of shocked her, I could tell. Female cabbies have to deal with a lot of potential danger, and probably don't earn as much as male cab drivers, so I wanted to make her bringing me home worth her while. We thanked one another and parted ways.
About twenty minutes later, Matt saw an Orange Cab car pull in front of the house, and asked me if I'd called for another ride. Since I hadn't, I went out to see if something was wrong. It turned out that my phone had slipped out of my purse while I was paying the fare. The lady discovered it when she attempted to call me to give me her direct number for any future transportation needs, and the phone began to ring in her back seat. I was just dumbfounded by her kindness in, in all probability, going out of her way to bring it back to me. I thanked her again and off she went into the uncharacteristic mist. I immediately programmed her number into the phone, but texted her to ask if I could have her name. Even though it has a certain ring to it, "Nice Ethiopian Lady from Orange" isn't very functional in the contacts list. I also thanked her again in the text, and assured her that I would reach out next time I need a ride. Hopefully, she'll text me back, when she has a chance.
In between the above incidences, I inched painfully into my room as I was talking to Matt. When I walked in, I noticed that my lamp, which is on the floor, for lack of having a table that could handle its massive size and weight, had been moved to one side. I asked him if Toby had knocked it down, since that had happened just a couple of days ago. He told me that the Mother Unit must have moved it when she was in my room. I asked him if he knew why, and he suggested I look up. Since I tend to look down when walking because, if I don't, I invariably end up tripping and busting my face, I had not taken notice of the wall. I turned my head in the direction to which Matt was pointing and saw this.
I have never been afraid of Darth Maul. I'm too caught up in a dense fog of lust to be scared. This time, though, I was more than a little startled not because it was Maul, but because it was giant and unexpected. It turns out that The Unit and Matt had ordered the laminate from Fathead, and devised a way they could get me out of the house so they could affix it to my bedroom wall, since the job takes at least two people. Matt needing the car was all a ruse. I thanked them both with as much enthusiasm and glee a person who feels like she's being strip-mined by demons can express. Now, I'm dividing my time between writing this, attempting to eat something for the first time since yesterday morning, and giving an image of Darth Maul that's taller than Ray Park the hairy eyeball.
And there you have it. I'm spending the rest of the day trying not to move very much and waiting for the shot to begin taking effect, ogling my smexxy smexxy Sith, and watching Impractical Jokers reruns online.