It's Official: I'm a Head Case

I’m heading to the hospital tomorrow afternoon for a CAT scan.

For a couple of months now I’ve had a headache that isn’t vision-related, according to the ophthalmologist. Nor is it due to TMJ or me grinding my teeth at night, according to my dentist. My general practitioner is baffled but immediately discounted my husband’s catch-all diagnosis: “I’m telling you, it’s hormones.”

I’ve tried everything from meditation to migraine prescriptions, but the pain persists. I’ve been stuffing steroids up my nose for a week now, and I don’t even have bigger biceps to show for it. (However, if I lose my temper and end up in trouble, you better believe my defense will be “’roid rage.”)

The CAT scan is to rule out the most serious causes, but that’s also opened the realm of possibilities. Running this morning, my overactive imagination began to wonder if it was normal to lose both short- and long-term memory as rapidly as I have; or to get to a stop light and suddenly forget where I’m going; or to set out to run one route and 30 minutes later realize I went in an entirely different direction.

Maybe it’s just stress. Maybe it’s like on the show Lost, where something funky’s going on with time continuums this season. Maybe it is hormones.

Maybe it’s just me.

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