Day 26 – The prompt for today’s Health Activist Writer’s Month Challenge Prompts (#HAWMC) is: “I still remember… Free write a post that starts with the line “I still remember…””
I decided that since this one is so general, I’d narrow things down a bit to keep it relevant to chronic illness. Since I mostly focus on my fibromyalgia, or chronic illness and chronic pain in general, I thought I’d put the focus on one of my other issues this time, so this post is going to focus on my migraines.
I still remember . . . the worst migraine I ever had. It’s something I’ll probably never forget. (My hubby probably won’t either, it scared the shit out of him.) I woke up at my usual time and called in to work to remind my boss that I had a doctor’s appointment that day. My head was aching a bit and I felt kind of sick, but I went through my usual routine of showering and washing my hair anyway, feeling worse and worse as I did.
By the time I got done, I felt bad enough to lay down until time to dress, so I curled up with my sleep mask, until suddenly I was violently nauseous. I barely made it to the bathroom before I lost it (thank goodness there was a throw rug I could just roll up to toss into the washer later,) and I was in there so long, making such awful noises, that hubby actually came to check on me.
It got worse from there, because I’m a stubborn bitch, and was determined I wasn’t going to miss an appointment with the rheumatologist that was always booked solid for 6 months ahead.
Hubby had to help me dress, with several interruptions to run worship the porcelain goddess, and eventually we emptied a small trashcan that I could just carry around with me. By this time, my head felt like it was going to explode, even with all the shades drawn and the lights off I could barely stand to open my eyes, and every time hubby whispered a question I nearly screamed from the pain.
Needless to say, the 45 minute drive to the doctor’s office, hugging my trashcan all the way, was a nightmare for both of us. Every bump in the road felt like someone was jabbing a railroad spike through my head, every time I had to open my eyes the light felt like razor blades slicing through my eyeballs, and every sound was like sharp knives inserted into my brain. Poor hubby wasn’t that much better off, either. He has a weak stomach, so every time I heaved, he gagged and choked.
I must admit though, it’s the fastest I’ve ever been taken to the back . . . the second time they had to rush to unlock the door so I could get to the bathroom before I shared my technicolor yawns with everyone in the waiting room, they stuck me in an exam room. I guess they wanted to get me seen and out of there before they had to clean up after me, because the nurse went ahead and started the intake stuff, mostly while I was hanging over their trashcan.
By that point, I couldn’t stop heaving, and within 5 minutes the nurse had rushed out the door and was back with a needle full of something. She kept waiting for the heaves to stop long enough for her to give me the shot, but it just wasn’t happening, so finally she had to poke me while I had my head stuck in the trashcan. (I have NEVER been so glad to be jabbed with a needle in all my life. LOL)
I don’t know what was in that syringe, but it was some damn good stuff. It was only about a minute before the vomiting stopped, and by the time I rinsed my mouth out I was so groggy that hubby had to pick me up and put me on the exam table (I don’t actually remember that part, the next thing I remember is waking up about 2 hours later.) Hubby said later that the nurse had been in there checking on me about every 15 minutes; and as soon as they found out I was awake the doctor came in, we finished the appointment, and I was GONE. (With scripts for Phenergan, Maxalt, and some narcotic pain-reliever in addition to my usual double handful of stuff.)
I’ve had other bad migraines, including ones that lasted for days of wishing someone would chop my head off for me, and others where I threw up several times. I’ve had lots of migraines where I wished I could just die and get it over with, but that’s the only one that ever made me wonder if it was actually possible to die of a migraine.
This post was written as part of NHBPM – 30 health posts in 30 days: http://bit.ly/vU0g9J
|If you’ve found the content on this website helpful, and you can afford to, please consider making a contribution to help keep the content coming and the site online.|