My new birthday

Today is my new birthday, and over the past year, a million new things have happened to me, both good and very good. I didn't count the bad things, but they happened and are still happening. The bad ones draw themselves without our requests or expectations. They just appear, hands on their hips, and kick the door open.

For example, from the recent ones. Last week (I even wrote about it in my Instagram stories – for those who missed it, you missed my grand lamentation) during lunch, I caught a unicorn with my brain. At least, that’s how it looked to me from inside my head. Today at the doctor’s appointment, the assistant said that from the description, it sounded like someone slipped LSD into my coffee. Honestly, I don't know what that looks like, so I have no comparison, but let's trust the medical professional – they have a diploma, after all.

I had an extremely anxious and unpleasant conversation with a relative on the way to work, and just as I was almost at the parking lot, I was hit with "you blame everything on Russia." I literally felt a sharp rush of blood to my face and just hung up (luckily not on the steering wheel). But that was enough to almost kill me.

My colleague from the cybersecurity office next door immediately started bragging about the new homemade coffee his mother sent him just before hurricane "Ernesto" from Puerto Rico. The coffee was from their home garden, so everyone was sniffing it and attentively listening to stories about hurricanes he’d experienced. And now, there's no connection with his mom because the city has lost power due to that same "Ernesto," and we're all gasping in sympathy (I was mostly gasping because I was short of breath from the stressful conversation a minute before). He offers to brew coffee for everyone. I don't drink coffee. For two years now, only decaf with the scent of coffee enters my body (stop frowning at this point; I used to frown too, but it’s fine now, I’ve gotten used to it).

So, he poured me a bit of coffee (literally just a drop in my glass), I diluted it generously with cream and sugar, and sat down to work.

As I stared attentively at the monitor, I caught a "flash" with my left eye and tried to blink it away quickly. But it didn’t disappear and instead moved slowly from the upper left corner toward the center of my vision, pulsing with a bright rainbow dot with jagged edges. I turned my gaze away from both monitors and turned off the desk lamp (thinking I accidentally burned my cornea). But my flash, which soon turned into a unicorn, grew and gradually covered more of my eye. I covered my left eye with my hand, and, oh miracle, it appeared in the right one too. Through this pulsing rainbow flash, I couldn’t see anything. I ran out into the hall and started looking at the runway, hoping that by focusing on distant objects, the muscle would relax, and it would disappear.

While I could still see the edge of my phone screen, I called Margo and told her that her mother was strangely going blind, without feeling any pain. We quickly said our goodbyes (I forgot to give her passwords to everything... I’ll try not to forget next time). My daughter, without much hesitation, opened all her medical books and read me all the possible diagnoses: from a stroke to a dislocated left heel. But, as it turned out, none of them included what the doctor diagnosed today.

In the meantime, the rainbow circle grew and completely covered my eye, blocking out the image. It was impossible to see anything through it or focus my gaze. Everything pulsed, shimmered with rainbow light, and flickered. An unplanned disco. Though without rave and without the right company.

And suddenly, everything vanished just as quickly as it had appeared. No pain and no other sensations.

I crawled back to my desk on trembling, half-bent legs, and the first thing I did was log into my insurance portal and find an eye doctor with a PhD (I wasn’t about to trust my scared eyes to just anyone). I got through on the first try and booked the earliest available appointment.

-Will Monday at 9:30 work for you? August 19th.

-Of course, – I blurted out.

And I thought, well, since we're not going to the restaurant for my birthday, I might as well go to the hospital.

An hour later, I was hit by a monstrous headache, and I barely managed to drag myself into the car to get home.

Once there, I laid my head on a pillow and didn’t move until the next morning. On Friday, I attempted to work, and I actually succeeded, but the dull pain in my head wouldn’t go away, even with ibuprofen.

Over the weekend, we escaped to the beach to celebrate my birthday with a glass of water, peaches, and a sandwich from Publix (mmm...) – I deliberately decided not to drive, in case I was dying. I didn’t want to go blind behind the wheel. Masha drove me there and back (we finally made it to that point).

In conclusion, it turns out I have an aura migraine. Just like that. They prescribed ibuprofen (in case of emergency) and advised me not to stress if possible. But it’s not possible at all. Not at all.

Thank you all for the congratulations and warm words. There are so many of you. I read everything, counted everyone, remembered, saved, printed, and noted everyone who didn’t write.

I always want to write, but then something terrible happens, and my hands hide under the table. And here I am writing in Russian.

Well then, let's head into the new year. We are cheerful, we are happy.

Yours, Nata Che.