My seizure medication (Lamictal, which is being slowly titrated up from 400mg/day to an eventual 800mg/day) hasn’t killed my cigarette-smoke hallucinations, so I’ve resorted to attempting to mask the imaginary stink with one of these plug-in room-smell thingies (in the default—but debatable—Fresh Linen scent):
And even though it’s on the lowest setting and hidden halfway behind a huge piece of furniture, it makes my entire Basement Bachelor BunkerTM smell like a middle-school boys’ locker room the day after a massive sale on Axe Body Spray.
It
does mask the cigarette-smoke hallucinations—which get especially strong (or at least acutely noticeable) as I work at my desk—but it’s giving me a low-grade headache.
Even worse, it’s giving me flashbacks to my boyish middle-school waistline, first fuzz of pubescent armpit hair and store-brand parachute pants. Can I borrow some hair mousse?
