Never start a story before you know how it ends.
In January I posted "The Headache, Part 1." This was intended to be the first of a multi-part saga chronicling my two-and-a-half year bout with migraines so severe they were, at my lowest point, hitting me four or five days a week. I planned to explore a variety of topics, including how an Alzheimer's medication led directly to my spotless office, how another medication led indirectly to the removal of my uvula, how I managed to turn my first massage into a stressful experience (for me and the masseuse), why my acupuncture experiences never healed or relaxed me and actually made my condition worse, my uneasy and heretofore undisclosed relationship with Botox (for migraines, not wrinkles!), and my predictably wacky experience in the medical marijuana world.
The story, as I planned it, would end with my migraines reduced in severity and frequency and my life back to normal, though migraines would continue to lurk.
After I started writing the series, though, two things changed. First, my marriage ended. Then, my migraines completely disappeared. Two twists that significantly changed the story. At this point I suppose I could rewrite it, but I am no longer interested in yesterday.
Instead, I find my thoughts returning to the history of today.
Which is probably a good thing for this blog.