a painful vacation

Over the past couple months I've had some of the worst migraines I've ever had to deal with. All through my life I've had horrible headaches, but they were infrequent and would usually last a few hours at the most. Recently though, I've had a few bouts that have lasted several days, leaving me feeling dizzy and nauseous whenever I would try to stand.

Although migraines are not very funny at all, when I have them I'm always reminded of this quote from Fletch Lives, where Fletch is on a televangelist program impersonating a spiritual healer.

I was on my gazebo, on the roof, making some repairs, and I was struck by lightning…and I’ve had migraine headaches and blurred vision ever since then but praise the Lord that was my lucky day because ever since then, I’ve had the healing power. Amen, God bless you. Thank you very much. Good night. Yes? What happened? Yes?

I wish that my migraines left me with the healing power. Instead, I find them to be rather debilitating. Last night I went to bed with a dull headache, thinking that I would sleep it off, but I woke up this morning and the pain had worsened. Even feeling the light on my face was terrible. Making matters worse was that I had to make some changes to a site for work, and did so miserably while I waited for the Tylenol (which is effective only about 50% of the time) to kick in.




I'll admit that I'm a bit hypersensitive to changes in my physical well-being. But after dealing with being anemic I really learned to appreciate what it was like to be fully energized versus constantly tired. When a headache disappears, I always find it amazing to no longer feel the pressure in my head, to stand up and not feel woozy, to listen to the ambient noise of the street and not be wishing for silence. I marvel at not having my thoughts interrupted by throbbing pain and to feel warmed by the sun rather than be irritated by it. But before I appreciate any of these things, there is always a period between the worst bout of pain and feeling back to normal when all I can do is be still. It's a really strange sense of calm, different than the calm you might feel being on an empty street first thing in the morning. The best way to describe it is that my limbs feel completely comfortable in whatever position they happen to be in and that my mind is completely free of any words or pictures. Which is a very odd sensation for someone whose head is usually filled with these things.




I've been trying to isolate the root cause of my recent migraines, but it's difficult to pinpoint anything in particular, which means that they're probably a manifestation of stress. Although I hate the way a migraine makes me feel, I am glad that at least they are followed by this period of stillness. For a brief period of time I am removed from my usual worries and concerns. This seems a bit like a painful vacation, but sometimes our bodies force us to do things that we wouldn't otherwise take the time to do.

Apologies if this post sounds too self-pitying. It's just that I've been dealing with this last set since Friday night and it's put a hold on so many things I've wanted to get done this week. I have discovered though that my mom shares many of the same headache symptoms that I do, so at least I know I haven't been over-dramatizing. Here's to hoping that this will be the last migraine for a little while. After all, it's getting to be sunstroke season for me. It would be cruel to have to endure both.