Over my right eye. Life has been strange lately.

It started with a throbbing headache about 10 days ago, which didn’t go away. For days. The pain made me jump with each throb when I was tired. Thanks to the age of information, I learned it could have been a migraine or several things much worse. My hair hurt. Aspirin didn’t help. A household member asked if I had a stiff neck. I decided I had an aneurysm. But without the symptoms other than the killer headache.

I kept working. It took my mind off things, but I did only the essential stuff. Didn’t blog. Started thinking it was something I ate. I began detoxing by eating right. It didn’t help. I slept badly because the headache kept waking me up.

I decided I had a brain tumor, but without the nausea and vomiting. Well, thank goodness for small blessings.

The night we watched Godfather I for the fourth time, I reached up and scratched my head. There were welts on my scalp. Big ones. As Al Pacino gazed off into space holding his godchild, I began to panic. Did I have botflies?

Family members became alarmed, and urged me to see a doctor. How on earth would I explain botflies to a suburban doctor? (These flies are not the result of poor housekeeping.) I decided to tough it out for a few more harrowing days.

The welts took on more sinister characteristics. My right eyelid became poofy. A large welt appeared toward the bridge of my nose. The area under the eye became a large ballooning sac of something. About then, I read a fascinating entry in Wikipedia about shingles, which is caused by the chickenpox virus lying dormant in the body.

When I walked into the dermatologist’s office today, I had a pretty good idea of what ailed me. It took her a couple of minutes to confirm. She suggested the peas to soothe the itch. The afflicted areas around my eye will most likely turn purple or dark brown in the next few days. I need to see an ophthamologist asap to make sure my cornea isn’t involved. Blindness is a possibilty. I’m to stay away from pregnant women and anyone else who shouldn’t catch chicken pox because I am contagious until the welts crust over.

The meds prescribed include acyclovir, an antiviral that the good doctor said might lessen my pain by a day or so. The main side effect? Both the doctor and the pharmacist assured me there was only one: headache.

The movie? I excused myself from the rope beating scene. But I kinda want to see the rest again. Minus the bag of peas.