Showing posts with label migraines. Show all posts
Showing posts with label migraines. Show all posts

How was your morning?


I dreamt of a towel brushing against the rusty old pot, an irritation.  I was annoyed.  I woke irritated again, but not knowing why.  Thirsty, but unable to get to water.  My head was hurting yet again. It was still dark, no energy to get up to deal with it.  The Valium that I took last night didn’t seem to do the job that it was meant to do, to kill this mammoth migraine. 
I lay for what seemed like an eternity, trying to will the pain away, or to will the relief to come to me.  Neither happened, no aid would come my way.  I peeled myself off the pillow gingerly and pushed 2 Panadiene Forte out of the packet, not the best choice, but the closest, and threw them down my throat.  At this rate, I would be stuck in the codeine rebound for even longer.  Another 20 minutes and I could visual the pain so clearly that if I was a surgeon I would just get my knife and cut it out.  I knew that I needed to get the real medication, my Zomig and Voltarin, and my sniff stick, the Vicks Inhaler, but this meant walking out of the bedroom, and to the back room, every step a vibration through the brain.  One vibration a little closer to relief, all of those extra vibrations adding up to heightened pain, to then hopefully lessened pain. 
I moved as gently as I could with my cup to fill it up again, squinting as I walked out due to poor vision, no glasses on, and the glare of the sun beginning to lighten the sky with a pink tinge.  Back in the safety of bed, I pulled out the precious tablets and swallowed, then burrowed back under the doona with sniff stick providing relief in form of distraction to the senses.
The pain of the pillows, the pain of breathing, the irritation of myself.  I knew that eventually this will go, but I must wait it out.  I just have to think of a time past here, past this moment of intense pain, where I cannot bear my husband to brush me with his toes, or for him to pull the doona.  I cannot bear the sound of the children running up the hall, which I knew they would do in about 10 minutes, then, I heard one of them stirring. 
I consciously dropped my jaw to try to relax all of the muscles around my head; let the balls of muscles slow down. 
Why do they have to stomp so loudly?
Why is my pillow so uncomfortable?
Time. 
Wait.
I wanted a coffee.  I knew it will help.  I know that some people say not to, but I know that a coffee does help when it is this bad.  I just needed someone to make it for me.  I just wished I could put up a flag so that they knew when I needed it.
Bang, thump, the next one was up.  I lay as still as church mouse hoping not to be noticed.  He came in and climbed into bed on my husband’s side.  The bed bounced and jiggled.  I stayed still. 
The first one up was now wearing my heels that I had left out the back, clip cloppeting around on the tiles and into our room.  My husband growled at him.  I murmured something, I am not sure what.  I wanted coffee.  I murmured, “Can you please make coffee?”  He was gone.
“What did you say?” My husband.
“I’ve got a stinker.” I replied.  There was an audible sigh.  He has lived with these as long as he has known me.  I guess they are tiring for him.
“What do you need?”
“I’ve taken everything.  I was just asking John if he could put on the coffee.”
“Don’t worry, I’m getting up.”  He threw off the doona, leaving myself and our youngest there.  I nearly had the bed to myself.  A silent bed.  My youngest stroked my head under the doona.  A lovely touch from a small soft hand; a feeling of relief, then he too was gone.  I crashed.
Coffee appeared silently, then English muffin with “Try something different”.  The pain had changed.  Moved from left to right, not as intense, bearable now.  I could communicate now.  I could sit, talk, and even get dressed.
I sat in bed for a little longer listening to the stress that I had put on the family as they pinged off each other.  My pain had become their stress.  We are not islands when we are in families, we all belong to each other.  Whatever happens to one, affects another.  Time to get dressed and help out until they all leave for school and work.

My Shadow, my unwelcome friend.


Half of my head is a shadow.  I sit still, trying to feel a part of the conversation.   Laughter does not come, words do not flow.  A smile, a half arsed, fake, hard work smile is all I can manage.

I know that I would be best placed being elsewhere, anywhere, it wouldn't matter where, but there is nowhere to go.  I am it.  I am mum and I am on duty.  I need to listen.  This is the third day now of my head in this state and this is all I know.

I have lived like this for years.  I don't even know when exactly it began; when asked, I say, "12", to pull a number out of the hat.

I massage the lump of muscle at my jaw.

I do know that by 16, my father was terribly concerned about the amount of pain killers I was taking, so I know that it had built up before then.

My 10 year old talks loudly, my 8 year old drops something.  I snap, "MY HEAD!"

They know.  Sweet boys.  They have lived with it since birth.  I don't retreat too often as I would not have a life. I just let the pain come with me, my shadow, my unwelcome friend.  The one I didn't ask to come along.

"Mum, don't you have book club tonight?" my 11 year old asks.  My sadness that I can't shake my pain away, again.  This will be the third one I have missed this year.

the life of the migraine



The vice across my forehead presses and compresses invading every thought. The crater at the top of my head is filled with rotten lava. I need to squeeze my head really tightly to stop the pain and wrap it in a cold pillow, thousands of cold pillows shrouding myself from the world; the noise, the light, the complications, the decisions, the smells.

My jaw throbs in sync with the crown of my head. Sleep doesn't come even though I am now nestled in those pillows cowering in the dark, thick with sedating drugs. Pain overwhelms me and takes over my psyche. My eyeballs are bruised and every roll and movement is painful. Time ticks by as I wait it out hoping something will work. Three days now have gone and I am tired. My patience with the air around has all by dissipated. I want someone to fix me so I can move freely again. It's the right side now mixed with an overall headache if that is possible - who knows. Left to start - always the worst - like a foreigner, an alien invasion in my head I feel like I cold remove it. It is so tangible with a line where the pain starts and ends. Like a paralysis, a stroke, if you like, loss of sensation from eyebrow to nose to jaw to eye at moments lost of sensation to then heightened sensation in an overbearing way. I look in the mirror and my eye lid is half closed and drooping.

I will not be able to sleep until the pain has dropped away...

I shower to try to wash the pain down the drain pipe.

Everything makes no difference and nothing makes any difference.

The oil burner glows with the lavender, rosemary... I cannot bear the smell any longer, it makes me feel ill. I blow it out.

I know it will end, eventually, but it is all a matter of when.


Then finally...and suddenly, and quite inexplicitly it's gone and after the hangover, after the post migraine tiredness, renewed energy. Life again. Breath again, move again, speak again and smile again. Don't look back, just in case it sees me again and catches me to slay me down again.