Originally published at Aiming Low on August 5, 2009. I'm on vacation so you are getting re-tread greatness today. You'll be happy to know vacation has been headache-free, fun and fabulous. If you are a migraine sufferer, get yourself over to Aiming Low and read the comments on my post. There are some amazing stories and tips from other migraneurs. Plus, the boy who made me want to be a writer ever since first grade left me a comment about his migraine saga. I haven't spoken to him in years. Freaky, huh?
There is a term for being a frequent sufferer of debilitating headaches – migraneur. It’s an awfully fancy word for the most common cause of unrelenting pain, after backaches. I’ve suffered from headaches since puberty and they weren’t such a big deal when I was younger. Sudden, severe pain, a little throwing up, then right back at it. I learned to live with it.
About three years ago, as I turned 40, I started waking up with horrible, nauseating headaches which didn’t abate with the inevitable vomiting. They lingered, sometimes for two days or more. Waking up with migraines as a mom of two little kids was inconvenient in the extreme, and it kicked me in the teeth.
My doctor ordered an MRI, which was reassuringly negative, but the quest for a cause and a cure had just begun. I became a star in my own annoying episode of House, without the dramatic and speedy resolution. I’ve tried courses of beta-blockers, anti-seizure meds, sleeping pills, and just about anything made for anxiety and depression – despite never feeling particularly afflicted by either of those conditions – and nothing has lessened the frequency of the beastly, throbbing monsters that rob me of my life a few times each month.
I have tried many things to break the cycle of headaches. I even tried acupuncture, but any soothing benefits of this procedure were hard to discern after freaking out from being left alone on the table for 45 minutes. Do you know how hard it is to get up and kick someone’s ass while covered in needles? It really can’t be done with any sort of efficiency.
I’ve tried to identify patterns and triggers, to no avail. I’ve gone months without a single cocktail for fear that alcohol was the problem, and still got headaches. I convinced my husband that the cat box produced an aroma that was ruining his life and was able to avoid that chore for a while. Headaches. I became convinced hormones were the culprit, but all the tests were normal and, apparently, I’ve still got a perfectly productive womb and many periods in my future.
I consider myself a strong person and I am otherwise rarely sick. I’ve never even had the flu. I’m not an addict and I don’t like attention, at least the medical kind, so that rules out my being a drug-seeking, Munchausen Syndrome-suffering, faker. I realize that sounds defensive, but I am uncomfortable with the diagnosis of person suffering from intractable pain.
At times I feel disabled and that’s as much about the blow to my self-esteem as it is the decline of my physical health. It bothers me to tell people I can’t do something because I have a headache. I sometimes wonder if they think I am exaggerating or plain making it up as an excuse, and it makes me mad that the overused lie, I have a headache, is my honest and frequent state of being.
Some people simply don’t get it. To those who have never experienced a migraine, it’s a hard thing to explain. Yes, I took something for it. It didn’t help. And, for the really bad ones, I will definitely take something in a few hours as soon as the vomiting stops and I won’t just be flushing a tiny $10 pill down the toilet.
I am almost positive my friends and family understand this condition I have. I do everything I can to keep this from affecting my kids, my marriage, and the work I can thankfully do from home, wearing the latest in headache-chic accessories. I don’t want my kids to look back and think that Mommy was always sick. I don’t want my husband to look at me and see something less than, when I fully counted on always being his more than.
Perhaps I’ll grow out of this soon. There are many things I want out of this life and I’ll be damned if I’m going to miss out. And, despite my insecurities, I know my people love me and believe me even though, after all, it’s all in my head.
