Three Motrin later, I can walk and do stuff. I have to be careful of certain kinds of things: bending over sends blood rushing to my head in an extremely painful way. Coughing makes the top of my head pop off and splatter my brains messily all over the ceiling. Staring at computer screens for lengthy periods of time makes my eyeballs drain of their vitreous humour.
OK, all of that is a slight exaggeration. But I still feel terrible, and I don’t have much of an appetite. So far, I’ve managed to scarf down some yogurt, but that was a bit of an effort.
