I write to you today from a not-so-lovely city named Migraine Town. Migraine Town is very dark and gray with occasional soundbursts of thunder and blinding flashes of lightning.
Not unlike the weather in Northern Illinois these past few days.
It is unpleasant experiences like this that convince me I am my father’s daughter. As a child, I watched my dad suffer from migraines. During the week, he was fine as he dealt with stresses at work and home. Then, the weekend would hit, and he’d be flat on his back in a dark room hiding from light and sound.
He explained it to me once. He said his brain knew its job was to work all week, so it put aside the extra pressure and strain. It wasn’t until the weekend, when it wasn’t required to work at the same speed; it would decide to revisit all the stress of the week on Dad’s beleaguered head.
Dad spent a LOT of Saturdays in bed with a migraine. My childhood didn’t suffer from it, but I grew up with a healthy respect for what headaches could do. If it could reduce my active, caring father into a half-vegetable for two days, I knew it was formidable.
I didn’t have to deal with migraines myself until well into my twenties. I count myself among the fortunate to only have to deal with them sporadically.
But I have noticed a similar pattern.
This week was crazy for me. I worked long hours, evening hours, and even into the beginning of the weekend. Then last night, as I contemplated a relaxing Sunday and the blessed relief of being given Monday off…BAM! Migraine City.
So far, I have been blessed to struggle with my migraines in relative peace. There are no children who need my attention, and Brett is great about being quiet when I am suffering.
The bunnies are silent by nature, of course, and let me cuddle with them on the floor and stroke their soft fur. Which helps dull the pain.
And, somehow, writing it all down helps me. Being able to put words to the pain seems to rob it of its power.
So now that I’ve weakened the dastardly villain on the drum set in my head. I’m going to pop some more Excedrin Migraine and see if that helps even more than the healing power of words!
Pardon my tendency to wax morosely dramatic during a migraine – it’s a proven tendency on my part.
Oh, and if anyone has heard of migraine cures/prevention, I would LOVE to hear about it.