Friday, November 18, 2011

580. Detour Through Migraineville

Some people have a favorite place they return to annually, a place like the beach, mountains, a special Bed & Breakfast, or other vacation spot. They might like this place so much they go twice a year, or three times. I, too, have a place I visit three times a year. It is not by choice.

“Here we are in Migraineville!” announces unthoughtful Brain, flashing annoying bright lights that make things worse, “Welcome!”

I know where we are, Brain doesn’t have to give it a name. I walk in the bedroom, pull the shades, and get intimately acquainted with my Tylenol bottle. I grip a cool wet washcloth, and place it on my head with my shaky hands. Go away go away go away, I say like a Mantra. Please please please go away.  I lie down and pray for sleep.   

Brain chuckles. I don’t think so! This detour is at least three hours long, last time was six.

I close my eyes, cringing at Brain. Stop stop stop. I feel tears in my tired eyes, tears of pain.

I desperately attempt to claw my way out of Migraineville, utterly spent. The Husband has been at work all day, he has no idea.

“You look terrible!” he says by way of a cheerful greeting.

“I had a bad headache,” I whimper. Brain scoffs and says, “Had? We’re still there.”

“Oh, Sweetie,” says The Husband in the same sympathetic voice reserved for when I accidentally step in dog poop in my new suede shoes, “you poor thing.”

He gives me a tight hug that does not help and actually might make the detour longer.

“Go back to bed,” he says supportively. “And you really should see a doctor to get some migraine medication.”

Brain slaps his words out of the air. Brain knows what happens at the doctor’s office.

Doc: How are you doing?

MOV: Great!

Doc: Any health issues or concerns?

MOV: Nope!

Doc: Great, well ... all your tests look good, so we’ll see you next year then!

Brain is not very good about reminding me of my detours to Migraineville after the fact. Brain likes to pretend they never happened.

I do not remember that I get migraines when I am face-to-face with a trained professional that can offer assistance in treating them: a doctor. No. Like the five-year-old that needs prompting about what happened at school this very morning (was it art? music? math?), Brain chooses to focus on happy things: Ooh, a new season of Top Chef is starting tonight!

The Husband walks in to check on me. “I brought you a new cold washcloth,” he whispers softly. At least he remembers.

("Migraine Of Vehemence")


  1. I am not sure if mine is a migraine, just worse than "normal". Fortunately I have my blog post for the day essentially finished, just not published. It was quite fun, NaBloPoMo topic of thinking about a crush from so long ago. Time for more meds, im-med-iately.

  2. Oh, MOV. I am so sorry. I hope you are feeling better.

  3. As someone who also suffers with migraines, I sympathize with you greatly.

    Hope you feel better soon MOV.

  4. Migraines suck. I know one is coming when I can hear my eyes when they blink. Hope you're off the hook with them for a while now!

  5. esbboston, couse, lily, marianne-- thank you for your sympathy! I do not wish migraines on my worst enemy (and "hear" your eyelids? oh dear).


  6. I have heard that you can get an IV in emergency if your migraine is bad enough. A friend of mine gets something done when hers get bad enough that she wants to claw out her own eyes. Is such a treatment available where you are?

  7. I had my first migraine at age 8 - flashing lights, numbness in my left side, very frightening. Of course the doctors had no idea what to do WAAAAY back then. There are some very good medicines out there now that will knock a migraine out in 30 minutes. I now take Maxalt for mine. I've also had good luck with Imitrex tablets. The first time I took one I was amazed at how quickly the pain and other symptoms went away. I'm sure your doctor would prescribe something. Check into it; I think you'll be glad you did.

  8. kay--thank you, I will look into it.

    HW--you are my new best friend, I am going to see my doctor armed with your list. I think I love you.



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