You do VooDoo, Don't You?

I am starting to believe that there is someone out there holding a little hair-doll of me (I do shed a lot - it wouldn't be hard to find a clump or two!), a large hat pin and a grudge.   I am convinced that this person is hell bent on providing me the most pain with the little Voodoo Holl-doll at the most inopportune times - like - I dunno - during "marital relations"!!!!  

I mean, can you think of a worse time to be struck numb and dumb by a mind-crushing head pain?

There I am, in mid coital bliss, not caring that my jubblies were jiggling or that my hair was a sweaty mess or that my glasses, thrown to the side some minutes before, may be under parts of me where no glasses have ever gone before when BAM!   A pain shot through my head and waves of nausea struck me.   I moaned in pain, instantly sending mixed signals to my happily unaware hubby, who responded by getting more enthusiastic until I dismounted and curled into a ball.  

The only coherent thought/word that kept popping up into my pained head was : Aneurysm.  

After four minutes of using my hands to hold my brains in, the pain subsided and Harry, shaken but not stirred, went back to watching Barret-Jackson auction off some more cars that no one could afford.   

There is no pain this morning.   The sharp stabbing head-pin is gone... for now.  But I'm wary of its return. 

So - I guess it's back to Celibacy for me and crying for Harry!

Oh - and I promise that not every entry is going to involve me and my piling ailments.    There's only so many times a gal can get sick/ have migraines/ sprain her vagina - right?  Right?