I have been hearing about Herxing. It is NOT the new planking. It is NOT the sound you make when you dry-heave. Well, actually it is, but the name was already taken, which is why we call it dry-heaving.
Herxing is when you have a big toxic build-up in your body, and your body is trying to get rid of it. For a more precise definition, see this link. Just know that I do NOT have Syphillis.
I can tell you that, right now, it feels as if there is a migraine building. In my left leg. It radiates down to my foot, and it began as I was completing my 40 minute commute to work. You know work, right? It's that place I go, where I reprint the paycheck I lost, wander around chatting up my staff until I figure out something productive to do, and then schlep home when I can't figure out something I can do that I can't screw up too badly.
Because in addition to the pain, I almost forgot to brush my hair (Thank you, Monkey Boy) and then I put my tank top on before my bra this morning. I pretty much have the cognitive function of a piece of burnt toast. Or Snooki.
I can't speak very well, I'm tripping over my words like I'm slightly drunk, and stupid things make me giggle. (Like most Fridays and Saturdays in college. Best 5 1/2 years of my life). Except that I don't want to giggle with my left leg throbbing. Frankly, it could be my right leg, I can't quite remember which one is which. It's entirely possible I will label them later, with a Sharpie.
So I'm sucking down water to get rid of the toxins. And each time something throbs, I am reminded of that stupid movie we used to watch where the antibiotics are guards, and the germs are all angry and attack the guards, and the guards totally kick ass. The throbbing is the shrapnel from the ass-kicking. It helps me to not hate the throbbing quite so much.
Oh, and inspiration? I have an Aunt, who is totally amazing. She was just given a clean bill of health from her Oncologist regarding her breast cancer. Today is her birthday----hell, EVERY day is her birthday these days. The reason I mention her here is this:
When Cancer tried to fuck with her, to knock her down, to tell her it was winning, she crammed her fingers in her ears, and told Cancer, "Lalalalalalalalala I can't hear you", and she went about all the awful things that go with cancer with a big-ass smile on her face. She was amazingly strong when she had every right to be weak, every right to throw a big-ass pity party.
So when I'm pissy about my body, and my fight, I have her to think of. If you are fighting and don't know anyone as bad-ass as my Aunt, you can borrow her for inspiration. I'm sure she won't mind.
As any good teacher would, I am providing you with a succinct recap:
- Me-Left, or Right, leg throbbing
- My brain-working at 10% capacity