Review of my Migraine
...Ok, so it's lame. I never claimed to be un...or would that be non...lame. I'm a lameass lame-o. But I figure, if the thing that's been taking up all of my time and attention in the past couple of days has been not a book, a movie, a TV show or even a fascinating blogwar... but a headache, well, might as well review it. I have plenty of experience.
When I was toddler, my mother was understandably freaked out a little when every couple of weeks I would get these strange spells of illness. I would vomit repeatedly, at fifteen to twenty minute intervals, unable to keep anything down. Light seemed to hurt me. I would lie like a limp dishcloth across whatever surface she arranged me on, unable to move. I would be like this for a day or two, and then wake up refreshed an ravenous. Until the next time. Finally she took me to a specialist who diagnosed "Intestinal Migraines". Later, the traditional migraine headache joined ranks with the vomiting and they still live with me today, those crazy kids. "Puke and Pound" is what I like to call them. I think it might have affected my childhood, being sick so often. I believe that this is why I'm such a lazy adult. I am accustomed to taking a break a couple times a month, kicking back, drinking some gingerale, watching Jerry Springer. It also helps me keep a trim waistline because there's nothing like a good weekend purge to get rid of the evidence of bad eating habits. Haha. Just kidding. Don't write to me and tell me how awful it is to joke about puking after eating. I know alllll about it. I'm going to play that bulumia card down the road here, you'll see.
Ok, so it wasn't pleasant, still isn't, but there is one advantage- I'm totally used to puking. I can silently, quickly, very efficiently throw up and roll over to go back to sleep in a swift, economical move, wasting little effort or time. Other people just freak out about throwing up and it's amazing to me. I'm firmly in the camp of, Get it over with and you'll immediately feel better. And yet, ill people will grimly lie in bed, swallowing like maniacs, for hours, rather than retching up their egg Mcmuffin and getting on with the business of sleeping until the next bout of nausea hits.
"I hate puking!" They all say, like it's a strange, unusual condition, born of rebellion deep within. Hel-lo... no one likes puking. Not even someone like me, who has done it so often that in highschool, my dentist went to my mother behind my back and told her I was probably bulumic because the enamel on my teeth was worn away, either from drinking a six pack of coke every day, or from repeated vomiting. Stupid dentist. Giving me up like that. Because it was true. Shock? I don't see why. I was a vain, nervous, angst-filled teenage girl who could easily vomit with little noise or loss of control. It would have been a miracle if I hadn't become bulimic with a resume like that.
Onward- the bulumia was gotten under control, I am still alive, and with cellulite on my thighs to prove it's disappearance, but the migraines stayed, like a faithful old dog that falls asleep in front of your chair and farts silently during your favorite television program. I have tried every kind of medicine invented for this shit. Some of it works. Sometimes. If I can catch the little bugger while it's young, when it is little more than a flashing light at my peripheral vision, or a strange flickering pain that dances across the backs of my eyelids, if I can jump on it then and pound it with some relpax or imitrex, or my personal favorite, a big ol' syringe of morphine...Hehehe... and then go to sleep for a few hours, sometimes it'll go away, like a friendly ghost that just disappears into nowhere. Other times, if I ignore, or don't think about the preceding signs, or if I smoke despite feeling that thumping drum behind my ear, or if I eat the wrong thing at the wrong time, then Ta-DAH! Mr. Migraine is a poltergeist turned loose in my head, to rip everything apart and throw stuff against the walls. Gross stuff.
I've tried every kind of medication and treatment, from holistic therapy to biofeedback to straight-on big time drugs. Same with all of them- sometimes they work, sometimes they don't. So migraines are just a fact of life that I live with. I can get them twice a week, or go for a month without the whisper of one. There seems to be little evidence of a pattern and generally, I'm at the mercy of the fickle things. My best option, always, is to go to sleep as soon as I feel one coming. Maybe the migraine gets bored waiting for me to wake up, I dunno, but quite often, it is gone when I wake up.
So from time to time, when my blog gathers dust, that's probably the reason why. That, or I have been struck down with a rare, mutated strain of the dreaded bird flu, the first case in America, and sure to die young, but famous. So bear with me, and I 'll come back, as soon as the bastard has gotten its fingers out of my skull.
This migraine was a pretty bad one. I'd say a seven on a scale of one to ten, one being that nagging little headache you get from reading without enough light, to ten being I am prone on my vomit and sweat-soaked sheets and trying to remember the number for 911, so I can call them and have them come put an I.V. with an air bubble in it up my ass, or wherever it will kill me first.
My migraines last anywhere from an hour to four days, and this one stayed a little longer than it was welcome. You know what they say about guests after three days. Happily, however, last night it was fading and this morning it looks like I will be able to attend to the real world, and by that I mean blog world, once again.
It started out mildly enough, just sort of a tease, and it's my own fault that I didn't take it seriously, thought it was just a big flirt when it made little squiggles jump into my vision and started a long, slow crawl around the back of my head. I ignored it. Didn't give it the time of day, or any kind of medicine for it to snack on, either, so of course, as always happens, it started chewing on me instead. My brain, actually.Really, my own fault. I should have known it was hungry.
The good news? It's over and I've lost five pounds, without the help of Trim Spa!
When I was toddler, my mother was understandably freaked out a little when every couple of weeks I would get these strange spells of illness. I would vomit repeatedly, at fifteen to twenty minute intervals, unable to keep anything down. Light seemed to hurt me. I would lie like a limp dishcloth across whatever surface she arranged me on, unable to move. I would be like this for a day or two, and then wake up refreshed an ravenous. Until the next time. Finally she took me to a specialist who diagnosed "Intestinal Migraines". Later, the traditional migraine headache joined ranks with the vomiting and they still live with me today, those crazy kids. "Puke and Pound" is what I like to call them. I think it might have affected my childhood, being sick so often. I believe that this is why I'm such a lazy adult. I am accustomed to taking a break a couple times a month, kicking back, drinking some gingerale, watching Jerry Springer. It also helps me keep a trim waistline because there's nothing like a good weekend purge to get rid of the evidence of bad eating habits. Haha. Just kidding. Don't write to me and tell me how awful it is to joke about puking after eating. I know alllll about it. I'm going to play that bulumia card down the road here, you'll see.
Ok, so it wasn't pleasant, still isn't, but there is one advantage- I'm totally used to puking. I can silently, quickly, very efficiently throw up and roll over to go back to sleep in a swift, economical move, wasting little effort or time. Other people just freak out about throwing up and it's amazing to me. I'm firmly in the camp of, Get it over with and you'll immediately feel better. And yet, ill people will grimly lie in bed, swallowing like maniacs, for hours, rather than retching up their egg Mcmuffin and getting on with the business of sleeping until the next bout of nausea hits.
"I hate puking!" They all say, like it's a strange, unusual condition, born of rebellion deep within. Hel-lo... no one likes puking. Not even someone like me, who has done it so often that in highschool, my dentist went to my mother behind my back and told her I was probably bulumic because the enamel on my teeth was worn away, either from drinking a six pack of coke every day, or from repeated vomiting. Stupid dentist. Giving me up like that. Because it was true. Shock? I don't see why. I was a vain, nervous, angst-filled teenage girl who could easily vomit with little noise or loss of control. It would have been a miracle if I hadn't become bulimic with a resume like that.
Onward- the bulumia was gotten under control, I am still alive, and with cellulite on my thighs to prove it's disappearance, but the migraines stayed, like a faithful old dog that falls asleep in front of your chair and farts silently during your favorite television program. I have tried every kind of medicine invented for this shit. Some of it works. Sometimes. If I can catch the little bugger while it's young, when it is little more than a flashing light at my peripheral vision, or a strange flickering pain that dances across the backs of my eyelids, if I can jump on it then and pound it with some relpax or imitrex, or my personal favorite, a big ol' syringe of morphine...Hehehe... and then go to sleep for a few hours, sometimes it'll go away, like a friendly ghost that just disappears into nowhere. Other times, if I ignore, or don't think about the preceding signs, or if I smoke despite feeling that thumping drum behind my ear, or if I eat the wrong thing at the wrong time, then Ta-DAH! Mr. Migraine is a poltergeist turned loose in my head, to rip everything apart and throw stuff against the walls. Gross stuff.
I've tried every kind of medication and treatment, from holistic therapy to biofeedback to straight-on big time drugs. Same with all of them- sometimes they work, sometimes they don't. So migraines are just a fact of life that I live with. I can get them twice a week, or go for a month without the whisper of one. There seems to be little evidence of a pattern and generally, I'm at the mercy of the fickle things. My best option, always, is to go to sleep as soon as I feel one coming. Maybe the migraine gets bored waiting for me to wake up, I dunno, but quite often, it is gone when I wake up.
So from time to time, when my blog gathers dust, that's probably the reason why. That, or I have been struck down with a rare, mutated strain of the dreaded bird flu, the first case in America, and sure to die young, but famous. So bear with me, and I 'll come back, as soon as the bastard has gotten its fingers out of my skull.
This migraine was a pretty bad one. I'd say a seven on a scale of one to ten, one being that nagging little headache you get from reading without enough light, to ten being I am prone on my vomit and sweat-soaked sheets and trying to remember the number for 911, so I can call them and have them come put an I.V. with an air bubble in it up my ass, or wherever it will kill me first.
My migraines last anywhere from an hour to four days, and this one stayed a little longer than it was welcome. You know what they say about guests after three days. Happily, however, last night it was fading and this morning it looks like I will be able to attend to the real world, and by that I mean blog world, once again.
It started out mildly enough, just sort of a tease, and it's my own fault that I didn't take it seriously, thought it was just a big flirt when it made little squiggles jump into my vision and started a long, slow crawl around the back of my head. I ignored it. Didn't give it the time of day, or any kind of medicine for it to snack on, either, so of course, as always happens, it started chewing on me instead. My brain, actually.Really, my own fault. I should have known it was hungry.
The good news? It's over and I've lost five pounds, without the help of Trim Spa!
4 Comments:
Head On-Apply directly to the forehead.
Head On-Apply directly to the forehead.
Head On-Apply directly to the forehead.
what are you suggesting I apply to my forehead, hmmm?
You've never seen that goofy commercial, have you? I wouldn't say anything that gross about somebody with a migraine.
sounds like a heckuva commercial. There's not much I wouldn't try applying to my forehead at least once in an attempt to get rid of the headache...
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