Remember the old Anacin commercial? Some may some may not. The announcer would talk over the graphics of this head illustrating jagged, sharp lines, a pounding hammer, and the shock of electrical impulses gone haywire and tell the listener if you took two tablets this trio of triage would disappear.
Well, multiply that pain 1000 times and you’ll get an idea of what my head feels like tonight. So I figured this is a good time for a test to see what happens to this monstrous nuisance if I light up a cigar and use it for my relief.
I didn’t care what cigar I smoked, so I pulled out the one that was in my shirt pocket most of the day and weaved my way to The Patio Cigar Lounge (open 24/7). I sat down. This headache was a blazer. The pain was excruciating. Metal thumb screws tightening down on every raw nerve cell in my skull.
What caused this pain is not the issue. But I knew stress was a huge contributing factor (so what else is new?). I lit the cigar – and that action in and of itself became a stress releaser. I began to hear the birds singing, the cicadas screeching, and the hum of our air conditioner lull me into a different state.
I had eaten earlier, so food would not dissolve the pain. I would let the cigar do its magic. So I sat there smoking the cigar. I closed my eyes. I could not will this one away. But even with the cigar’s silent medicine moving through my mental motherboard, the headache persisted. Oh, for a massage right now.
I know that smoking the cigar would not relieve the pain instantaneously. So I just sat there and smoked the smoldering leaves of aged tobacco. Modern Juju.
I continued to smoke that cigar. The draw? Impeccable. The chewy smoke a dream. The aroma a delight. I began to imagine mist. I have gotten to know a photographer in India, Divanshi Chauhan, a student. She has sent me some gorgeous shots of her country. And I thought of one in particular – a quiet plaza, where light rain is falling.
I continued to smoke the cigar and began to enter the vision. I could sense the tightness around my neck loosen, the twisted tendons of taut muscle relaxing. I allowed the cigar to transport me to India. I walked around the plaza of my mind. My eyes still closed. I became serene. Still.
I slowly began to open my eyes. I had not seen reality. It wasn’t until I noticed that the cigar was almost to its end when I discovered that the headache had all but vanished. Silently it had disappeared into the smoke. This combination worked. I could feel the light breeze of the night air. I was smiling. My prescription for the pain had worked. I felt as if I had discovered the cure for the plague of the 21st Century – and this time it was not lost.