She asked about my preventive medication, and I told her it did seem to work, but I wasn’t in love with the side effects, including losing my hair, the inability to recall names from my short term memory, and that my skeleton, particularly my spine, felt broken. Constantly.
We made a plan to swap out my preventive. She asked whether I’d ever taken a particular drug. It sounded familiar, but I was sure I had not.
She jotted down the instructions for transitioning from one to the other, arranged for a referral to a neurologist, and I agreed to come back in a month to report how things were going.
When the night came to begin the new preventive drug, I did as instructed, reviewed the label as I filled my water glass from the fridge, pushed down on the cap, and turned to open.
Along with the cascade of tiny pellet-sized pills came a flood of memories.
Memories I pushed down.