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I looked up at the iv bag, half empty now, wondering when or if it would work. The drug dripping coldly into my arm was one familiar to me. In the past, it had made me writhe across the bed in a confused panic. Now they knew about that side effect and gave me something to counteract its awful effects first. It made me groggy, heavy, but did nothing for the pain.

Eight days earlier I’d made the decision to lower my dose of topamax by 25mg. Topamax was making me stupid, but it was also helping my migraines. I thought perhaps the drug and I could come to some sort of agreement. Almost immediately after lowering the dose, I began to write again. I opened my PhD proposal and picked away at my advisor’s comments. I did my duty over at…

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