Although the headache initially started to subside, it performed a full 180 degree turn and decided it was far from done where fucking my head with a pneumatic drill was concerned.
It was the worst headache I’ve ever experienced and the 6th May will forever be known as “The Day My Head Felt Like It Would Explode”.
I’ve never had a migraine before and don’t believe this to have been one as I had no issues with looking at light. However, that was the only issue which I didn’t have; everything else I did caused pain. Each individual movement and sound would cause a small earthquake within my skull, threatening to pop my eyeballs out of their sockets. Trying to pinpoint the exact area which was slowly being squeezed by a vice, I would squeeze parts of my head in turn, hoping this action would at least reduce the pain even just by the minutest amount.
I went to have a nap because at least if I slept, I wouldn’t know I had a headache and hopefully, I’d wake when it was gone.
The evil, torturous devil inside my brain was not going to let me sleep. In fact, laying down and trying to get comfortable in any way, shape or form was actually beginning to make me feel sick.
I was now getting desperate; I’m usually very tolerant to pain but this monster headache was really beginning to get to me.
Despite my brain cells slowly being picked off one by one by the thunderous and continuous waves of agony, I had a brainwave and immediately became annoyed that I hadn’t thought of it earlier.
For years, Lucozade has made up half of my standard hangover kit, along with paracetamol or aspirin.
Whenever I’m going out drinking, I always ensure I have a large bottle of Lucozade and a packet of painkillers. As soon as I stumble through my front door, I drink plenty of the orange stuff and pop some paracetamol. I then keep both by the side of the bed and take as required/allowed during the night. Generally, I’ll wake up hangover-free and feeling absolutely fine (albeit still a little drunk). I’m convinced that Lucozade cures everything.
I dragged myself to the local shop on my elbows, moaning and groaning with each metre covered. There were several times when I thought I was just going to die by the side of the road, but I soldiered on through the agony.
Ok, so it wasn’t quite like that but I managed to get myself some bottles of Original Lucozade. I’d already taken painkillers, so I necked a bottle of my orange saviour and tried to sleep again. This time, I managed to fall asleep and awoke two hours later, with no sign of drum and bass behind my eyeballs. In fact, it felt like I’d had a full night’s sleep in those two hours and I was completely refreshed.
I absolutely swear by Lucozade and I wonder if anyone’s considered testing it as a treatment for HIV, cancer, TB, blindness, stupidity. Ambulances and A&E departments alike should stock the stuff so that it can be given intravenously to patients who are at death’s door. I reckon Lucozade could even help to rejuvenate limbs which have been mauled or severed and would even go as far to suggest that if you were decapitated, your head would grow back again if Lucozade were poured into your neck soon enough.
Lucozade is so amazing, why not take it a step further and use it for fuel? Instead of using BP Ultimate or Shell Optimax fuels in my car, I may start running it on Lucozade alone. I’d probably get a gazillion miles to the gallon.