My love for Pad Kee Mao and other assorted noodle dishes caught up with me as we tried a new Thai restaurant on Friday night and barring the fact that we had to eat with surprisingly heavy forks (an ABOMINATION), were offered no chopsticks and the starter came at the glorious, bitter end I thought we might have found a new haunt. It's nice to have new places to eat.
(I should have taken all of those signs as an omen. But I was hungry.)
Then this morning I almost died, as the worst headache I've had in fifteen years woke me up, if not for the nightmares beating it to the job, and only when I threw up at eleven did I feel any better. I slept until three and it took me until seven to be myself again.
Everyone else is fine.
I'm especially susceptible to Chinese Restaurant Syndrome, or so it's called, a bit of a misnomer as it seems to cover any foreign food and any symptoms but in the migraine headache world it means the worst headache you've ever had, and mine was right up there.
I'm stupidly sensitive to glutamate, but only in very large quantities so I don't know if I can research what is safe to eat on the menu or not, I just know I get all excited over noodles and new restaurants and I'm still thrilled we finally went to this spot as we've been driving by for a couple of years and never pulled the trigger before. Little did I know I was pulling it on myself.
So today all I had to eat was a slice of homemade bread with honey and then a small plate of mashed potatoes. My phone was off, my door was closed and everyone had to go out so Henry was tasked with keeping an eye on me with instructions to drive me to the ER if I got worse.
(Which I've only had to do about eight times. I love headaches.)
God bless him, he checked on me every fifteen minutes, scared to death. On the last check I was awake and up and sweaty. He wrinkled his nose and gave me a hug anyway, and sadly I don't think I can ever go back to our favorite new restaurant again.
(I should have taken all of those signs as an omen. But I was hungry.)
Then this morning I almost died, as the worst headache I've had in fifteen years woke me up, if not for the nightmares beating it to the job, and only when I threw up at eleven did I feel any better. I slept until three and it took me until seven to be myself again.
Everyone else is fine.
I'm especially susceptible to Chinese Restaurant Syndrome, or so it's called, a bit of a misnomer as it seems to cover any foreign food and any symptoms but in the migraine headache world it means the worst headache you've ever had, and mine was right up there.
I'm stupidly sensitive to glutamate, but only in very large quantities so I don't know if I can research what is safe to eat on the menu or not, I just know I get all excited over noodles and new restaurants and I'm still thrilled we finally went to this spot as we've been driving by for a couple of years and never pulled the trigger before. Little did I know I was pulling it on myself.
So today all I had to eat was a slice of homemade bread with honey and then a small plate of mashed potatoes. My phone was off, my door was closed and everyone had to go out so Henry was tasked with keeping an eye on me with instructions to drive me to the ER if I got worse.
(Which I've only had to do about eight times. I love headaches.)
God bless him, he checked on me every fifteen minutes, scared to death. On the last check I was awake and up and sweaty. He wrinkled his nose and gave me a hug anyway, and sadly I don't think I can ever go back to our favorite new restaurant again.