Do I hear the wail of a siren in the distance? I sure hope so, because I am in desperate need of a waaaambulance! Someone please call up the reinforcements before my fanny becomes permanently attached to the pity pot!

Ok, so yesterday was just plain terrible no matter how I look at it. The cluster of seizures that began in the middle of the night on Tuesday left me with clusters of headaches on Wednesday that rendered me just about as useful as plastic surgery tips from Jocelyn Wildenstein. I don't give in or up easily and genuinely believe that location matters very little to misery, so I went to the office. (Side note: Ali and I have a business, so "the office" to me means the location of my desk in one of our warehouses.) Besides, pity pots are portable!

Seizures and short term memory are not the best of friends. In fact, they really don't like one another at all most of the time. Thus it should not have surprised me that I completely forgot Ali's dental appointment yesterday morning or my own eye exam appointment in the late afternoon but remembered that I would be missing out on seeing Phantom of the Opera. Back in January, I posted about anticipation and mentioned that I had bought tickets for myself and the niece to see the show on, you guessed it, February 18th! In the heat of the excitement, I hadn't considered that (1) the show started at 8 PM, (2) I live in Orange County and the theater is 35 miles away in Los Angeles, (3) I can't see well enough to drive at night, and (4) I would have to find someone to drive me and the niece to LA then be willing to wait around for 2.5 hours until the show finished.

Ali volunteered to play chauffeur for us. But the closer the date of the show drew, the less I wanted him to make yet another sacrifice for me. I mean, really, the poor guy already hangs out in the car on Thursday nights while I teach a class, so why on earth would I want him to waste yet another evening stuck in the car while I enjoy musical theater? How utterly selfish is that?! Iman and Magdy (daughter and son-in-law) volunteered to drive us and hang around in Hollywood until the show was over, but it's a long drive and Magdy has to be at work very early in the morning. A solution to the problem came to me a couple of weeks ago when it hit me how nice it would be that two birthday girls (Iman on 2-4, Basma on 2-17), both of whom are as crazy about Phantom as I, share the evening together and gave my ticket to Iman for her birthday. It's a good thing I did, too, as I would never have made it to LA yesterday; however, that doesn't mean that I don't get to feel sorry for myself for having to miss out on the show!

With the constant pressure, banging, and throbbing going on in my head, I didn't accomplish anything at the office except to make Ali feel terrible that I was there at all. Ours is a genuine old-fashioned "mom and pop" business. Ali, I, and Iman are the only employees and between us, we manage two warehouses, a brick and mortar shop, a couple of websites, and all the wholesale and retail customers they bring. Since Iman got married last month, she cut her hours by half to make it easier to manage a full-time load of classes while working and adjusting to married life. Add to this the time I spend away from the business to take care of my teaching responsibilities both in and out of the classroom, and you'll see quickly enough that Ali is one heck of a busy man all the time. How could I add to te burden he already carries so willingly?

And so, I spent yesterday on the pity pot lamenting the misery that came in the wake of an avalanche of seizures that triggered an eruption of headaches, mourning the loss of much of my independence, and bemoaning the burdens that Chiari forces me to dump on my family. For now, I'm going to try my best to play like Scarlett O'Hara because, "After all, tomorrow is another day."