I woke up at 4am with a brain crushing migraine. Third migraine this week. I stumbled for a cold cloth to try that. I laid back down, profusely sweating. Two minutes later, I realized that it was taking hold. I should have known better when I went to bed with a headache; having a headache before bed always results in the same.
Reasoning with myself that I can’t take a third dose of Fioricet in one week, I stumble downstairs for my MGrain Essential Oil. I grumble at myself, holding my head, while reminding myself that this is precisely why I’m supposed to keep one bottle upstairs.
Cold cloth over my eyes, head now covered in essential oils, I lay. The brain crushing pain rips through my forehead, reaching around the back of my skull, strangling my brain and pulsating through my eye socket. I lay there trying to be calm and still. Maybe try Reiki….Oh God ouch. Okay. No Reiki.
Instead, I think (stupid brain STOP): okay, it’s been about six months since I stopped the migraine meds, yup, that’s about right. I typically last six months, without preventatives, before hitting the chronic wall. Three this week likely means four next week. Okay, stop thinking.
So what can I do? Topomax stops them…..but, well, then I turn into a skeletal variation of the Hulk meets Venom, with the added bonus of peeing blood. I can’t think of any super heroes that do that.
Bri (my Husband) has been incredibly patient through these trials of Topomax, not sure he will stay through another cycle of complete anger, insanity and irrational, sudden requests for a divorce. Bri don’t leave me.
Botox, well Botox is the last one we haven’t tried. Somehow drooping eyelids and loss of my arm isn’t overly appealing. Nevermind my overly sensitive body (from Fibro) will invent new and creative reactions to this drug, like all the others, that no Doctor can believe exist as a result of “just a drug”.
Hmmmmm. I wish I knew why my fingernails continue to fall off……
The migraine rips through my brain now and I whimper. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Do NOT cry. It will only make it worse.
The noise from the fan slices through my migraine pain and my Husband’s gentle breathing makes me want to eviscerate him. I adore him, but if I murder him right now I won’t hear his breathing…..I ponder. You’ll miss him later, stupid. The dog grunts and takes over more of the bed. Why do I even have dogs again???? Do I even want dogs? Oh right. I worship my dogs.
Knowing I shouldn’t do it, I stumble down to the kitchen again, holding my head. A yelp let’s loose from my lungs as I turn on the light to find my Fioricet. One or two? Well, I’m not supposed to be taking a third dose at all this week-so I better make sure it works. I swallow them, terrified, knowing that the two dose weekly limit exists to prevent rebound headaches. As the pills slide down my throat I know that I may be my very worst enemy. I know that the simple act of a third dose can cause yet another migraine. Then what? What happens when even the Fioricet won’t work. Don’t panic yet.
I fumble through the darkness back to bed and try to stop thinking. Even thoughts are antagonizing the pain. Back to bed and the tears slide. Not again I think; not again with the consistent migraines. I cannot do this again. I lay still and try to slow my breathing. The ice cold cloth stings and the essential oils waft as I pray for relief.
I wake, migraine free and thank God. I live on borrowed time until the next.