The day begins with rock music playing softly on the radio. I fight my way free from the veil of sleep, longing to be pulled back into sleep's warm embrace but feeling the pull of my obligations. The day's events run together like strands of yarn after being played with by children. Dance camp for the older two, a visit with a friend and former client, the drive back convincing a little boy that he will have fun at lunch, a lunch out with my MIL, browsing through the thrift store afterwards, pick up from camp, laundry, supper and then a visit with my mentor.
Wound through the tangled colours is a deep, thick strand of red. Not a pretty happy red, but an angry pulsing red. Red for the pain that shot through one side of my head and neck, pulling me down. It's tempting to whine when the headache strikes, to pull back. I soldiered through today, not wanting pity. I rubbed on headache soother, drank coffee and water, took tylenol-all to no avail. My husband prayed as did my son, but still the pain continued. I kept going.
Now the pain is gone, the red yarn trailing off into the rest of the ball. I am released, just in time for bed.
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