After my disastrous massage experience, I decided to go back to basic medical science.
What causes headaches?
1. Stress – well I had already deduced that I was under a lot of stress with the whole living-with-boyfriend/parents-studying-for-a-huge-exam factor, but was that enough to cause these searing flashes of pain?
2. Neck tension – which was not alleviated by before-mentioned obese “therapist”
3. Intracranial pathology – now this was the scary one. Words like “brain tumour”, “arterio-venous malformation” and “encephalitis” sprang to mind. Let’s skip 3. For the time being!
4. Visual acuity problems –AHA! I wear glasses for reading. It is quite strange to be far-sighted in your late twenties, as all the people I know that need glasses to order off a menu, are grey and wrinkly. I tried to calculate when I had last been to the optometrist……..2005. SHIT! How could I be so stupid? Obviously it was my eyes.
I booked an appointment and merrily went on my way for my miracle healing to begin. My old optometrist had moved/vanished/died and I was seeing someone new, let’s call him George for simplicity purposes.
“So what can I do for you?” George asked me as I entered his office.
“Well, I’ve been getting headaches for the last few months and I wanted to rule out the common things first,” I casually answered, whilst still cursing myself for realising this so late.
“OK, well let’s have a look at your old glasses and then test your eyes.”
George took my specs and muttered something under his breath after analyzing them. He then began to do my eye test.
“It seems to me that whoever prescribed these old glasses, thought that you had astigmatism in the right eye. You don’t have that, and are in fact short sighted. How many hours a day do you wear glasses?”
“Um…I wear them at work and then when I am studying at home, so around 6 hours a day.” I answered.
“OK, well that could be the reason for you headaches. I’m going to give you completely new glasses, which you can wear for driving and watching TV.”
So what retard gave me the wrong glasses? If I could remember his name, I would hunt him down, cut off his scrotum, and send him to optometrist’s hell. I made do with going home and retelling the embarrassing tale to my friends and family, with my wallet considerably lighter.