But I digress.

I was called in to a meeting this afternoon with the DBA and the PL/SQL report programmer to discuss the new registration process. It turns out that our database supports one set of business rules which call for a certain set of specs, while our application software supports an entirely different set of business rules which call for an entirely different set of specs. Somewhere along the development process for our newest release, someone forgot that the two groups of people — database development and application development — should be talking with each other, just to be sure that everyone is using the same set of business rules.

If it were to come to pass, then it would be a revelation as impressive as the revelation that Development and Product Management ought to talk to each other once in awhile. We reached that point about a month ago.

I was pulled in to this meeting because the DBA knows that of all the developers in the Sacramento office, I’m really the only one with any interest in the database development process. Unfortunately, as a front-end web developer, my role in developing the application to meet the new set of business rules is very limited.

It was right after the meeting, though, that things got really interesting.

It started as a little bright spot in the lower right portion of my field of vision; sort of like an after image that you see after looking at a bright light. But it seemed to grow, with "spikes" around its edges; and as it grew, my vision started to fade in and out. The edges wavered, and it was like my peripheral vision had become obscured through running water.

I happened to be Instant Messaging with my mother at the moment, and I explained what was happening, and she suggested that I head on over to the hospital. One of the doctors who works in our company happened to be passing by, and he asked what was up; I told him and he repeated my mother’s suggestion. So I asked the company controller if there was a hospital nearby that would accept our insurance plan, and she not only gave me the name of one, but drove me there herself.

By the time we reached the hospital, my vision had cleared up completely, but I was starting to get a bad headache. The doctor examining me had me take a vision test, and my vision turned out to be as clear as ever. Then I got to go for a CT scan.

Ever undergone a CT scan? It’s not that bad at all. It lasts very little time at all and isn’t at all painful. All you do is lie on a bed with your head restrained. The bed is raised and moved back until your head is inside a torus which is basically the camera. A drum inside the torus rotates very fast, scanning your brain.

Not long after, the doctor came to the waiting room where I was and told me that the CT scan was negative. We talked for awhile, and it turned out that what was going on in my head was a migraine.

I immediately called Jennifer, whom I had contacted when I learned I was going to the hospital. "My brain is normal!" I told her. She was relieved to hear I was healthy, but dubious that I had a normal brain. As were my parents. And the friend who had introduced Jennifer to me in the first place.

Sheesh.

So by the time I got out of the hospital, it was too late for me to take the evening flight back to Sacramento. So, one last time, I’m spending the night here in Portland, and I’ll be taking the first flight back to Sacramento tomorrow morning. I’m disappointed; I had hoped to fly back tonight so I could have a night with Jennifer, but life and my mostly normal brain seem to have intervened.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow I will get to take my normal brain home to Sacramento. And stay there. For a few days, at least, until after Atlanta, and then… Then my brain and I will be home. Home for good.

This is your brain. And this is your brain on stress.

Any questions?