Lady of Guadalupe

So Tuesday I began developing this head/jaw ache thing. Though by day I haven’t been anxious, by night someone must be chasing me again, or I'm just not in denial in my dreams, because I have been grinding my teeth at night. Wednesday, by the time I reached California my head was throbbing and I was heavily medicating with little result.

Thursday, I went to San Francisco! And hurrah! it was great and all, but really, I didn’t care- I couldn’t think straight, I couldn’t see straight- it hurt. I’m sure I walked five miles that day gazing at all the Victorians, and really they were beautiful, but no matter, it was a terribly bad day. I had a burrito (day three of burritos) at Mariachi’s at Valencia and 16th (I am keeping track for myself). It tasted wonderful, but I felt horrible. I was in stuck in the heart of The Mission and I wanted my mommy. On the wall was The Lady of Guadalupe. Beneath her, a plaque saying in both English and Spanish not to worry about health but to pray to the lady and she would take care of me. I was desperate. I tried it. Nothing. I walked around the rest of the afternoon further overmedicating to the point of concern, deep down, cursing the Lady of Guadalupe and questioning the basis of my current future profession. That afternoon I had bought a bite plane, but it only seemed to make it hurt more. Though maybe only on my own meager scale, I was in a quite a bit of pain.

By the time Thursday night arrived I was scared because if it hurt more I didn’t know what to do and there is no one to call who is close enough to come bring me a bowl of soup and rub my back or carry me to the doctor if that was what I needed. I was scared because you can’t take a break from pain; it is like a cage and I quickly and easily get claustrophobic. If I freaked out and wanted to just cry like I’ve been wanting to for months, but I knew it would just make my head and jaw hurt more- making me further claustrophobic. I knew I could call home, but what’s the use of worrying people when all that calling does is highlight that there is nothing anyone can do. So I just curled up in the fetal position, poured water down my throat, tried to sleep and when I couldn’t tried to read Sputnik Sweetheart to distract me alternately throughout the night.

Late morning the pain was gone. Suddenly I was all praise for The Lady of Guadalupe.