I'm Tired
I couldn't sleep last night, because my brain kept running on about this lamo visit that I have to make to this new idiot doctor. Ugh! I can't believe I already spent an entire night on this guy. I should charge him for invading my mind and life. Grrr!
You know, I get sick, sometimes, of people trying to cure my migs. They're an incurable disease. But, they still try with all kinds of drugs, helpful suggestions, tests, blood tests, blah, blah, blah, and the list goes on. Family members and their friends constantly send newspaper and magazine clippings to me about how to get rid of migs with all the latest gadgets, supplements, homeopathy, mind over matter, and other bullshit. I just want to yell at them and tell them to stop sending that shit to me! But, that wouldn't be showing them love. After all, they're only trying to be compassionate and helpful. So, instead, I thank them and toss the garbage in, well, the garbage.
I'm tired of waking up with headaches, migraines and nausea. I'm tired of staying home all the time, pent up in this bitty trailer, it's depressing. I'm tired of going to the docs office for drug treatment just to get a break from the intensity of the pain. I'm tired of taking so many medications and trying to remember which ones to take, when and how to take them. I'm tired of being constantly nauseous. I'm tired of feeling kind of confused. I'm tired of being off balance. I'm tired of my left side feeling weak. I'm tired of the lightning bolts flickering across my vision and the blackness covering it. I'm tired of the weird tone in my ear. I'm sick and tired of this whole damn mess. I'm tired of migs waking me up. I'm tired of sitting in a dark room. I'm tired of not being able to exert myself at all. I'm tired of not being able to bend over. I'm tired of being in pain. And I'm tired of thinking about it, living it, hearing about it and dealing with it. I'm just plain sick and tired.
The one blessing is that my period has been getting shorter and shorter lately. This month it was only 2 days long. Yay! Wonder if I'm going through menopause, but I think it's too early and I'm too young for that. Only 33, well, ok, 34. Ok, now I sound like Pollyanna, finding the silver lining on every cloud. Ugh! Can't stand those kinds of people when I'm sick. Well, trust me, I'm not feeling perky right now.
Oh, yeah, and I'm tired of the cavity I have in my tooth and the fact that when I get it worked on on Tuesday, I am sure to get a mother of a mig and end up in the hospital or if I get some mercy from heaven, passed out in the dentists chair. Not looking forward to the drilling. Grrr! So frustrated and annoyed today.
Life's a Bitch, Sometimes
Well, the migs are back, dangit! I had to go into the docs office for shots again on Tues. The pain's on the top of my head and left temple, though, not in back where I got my shots, so I know the shots are still working. Anyway, I had a follow up appt with my doc and she's really worried about me. They're making me go see the only neurologist we have in this podunk town. He also happens to be the only one who'll take state insurance from our county in N. CA.
The reason I think this sucks is that I think this guy is a total quack! Here's why: I had a grand-mal seizure due to eclampsia after I had my daughter. He came to consult and said that it wasn't a seizure, but my body was just getting rid of the toxins. My doc at the time was so pissed off that he turned white with rage when he heard this guy say that! I mean, I had a major seizure and went into a coma for 1/2 hour afterward and this guy was being an asshole about it.
The second reason is that my friend, M.I., started getting really bad headaches and throwing up with them, so she went to see this doc (she was on state ins, too). He told her it was just migraines and to take excedrin for them. So, she did--for 3 months. By that time she was falling down, couldn't keep her balance and was having the most horrifying headaches and throwing up all the time. So, they went back. This time, they ordered an MRI, but had to wait for the state to approve it. Because he had diagnosed migs the first time, it took 2 months to convince the state to give her an MRI. So, then she gets the test done and it shows a tumor the size of a golf ball. Now, they have to get a neurosurgeon to see her which takes another three or four weeks (people on state ins aren't as important as people who have private ins). By this time the tumor was the size of a grapefruit and they did brain surgery on her, but it was basically too late. They thought they got the whole tumor, but then more developed after surgery over the next couple months. The whole cycle started over again--get permission for another mri (two weeks this time), see the neurosurgeon (another two weeks), and by this time they couldn't do surgery on her brain so they admitted her to long-term care and she ended up dying the most horrible death I've ever seen (and I worked in long-term and terminal care units when I was nursing)! If she'd been seen sooner, she would still be alive, I'm sure of it.
The third reason is that a friend of my mom's, (private ins), went to see him because she was having tremors and her doc referred her to this guy. Anyway, he told her that she was just gardening too much and gave her some muscle relaxers and told her to take it easy. So, she did, for 6 months and the condition just kept getting worse. So, she went for a second opinion somewhere else and they told her she has parkinson's. She finally started getting the kind of treatment that she needed.
So, you can see why I can't stand this guy and don't want to see him. I don't feel like I can trust him at all. And now, my docs are going to have to rely on whatever he tells them. So, my level of pain management and treatment could end up going way down. I am really wary of this. So, I started freaking out about it, right? Still am a little, I guess. But, then, I thought. Well, I have no choice right now, so what's the point obsessing or worrying about it. It's only two months until my husband has insurance and I can go see a "real" doctor. But, who knows, maybe this guy will have a sudden stroke of luck and find something. I highly doubt it though.
So, this is the predicament I'm in and I'm just so...I don't even know what to say. It's really unfair that I have no choice on who will take care of me. But, that's the way it goes.
Just wish all of this would go away.
Knowledge of Peace
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will not fear any evil: for You are with me... Well, the craziest thing happened to me two days ago. I felt fine in the morning, happy and alert, yada, yada. I took my medicine, the usual amount that I take every day, plus a couple fioricet, because my head was hurting pretty bad. It was an average morning. So, I sat down at the pc after my daughter went to school, to work on a blog (it was going to be a really good one, sorry you guys had to miss it).
Suddenly, I couldn't remember what I wanted to write. It was about half way through the blog. And I started getting really, really sleepy. I felt like I could hardly keep my eyes open. So, I thought, well, I'll use the bathroom and then take a nap on the couch. Must just need some more rest.
I got up from my chair and took a step and my legs turned into jelly and the room swung like a pendulum! I felt like there were waves under my feet and I fell. I tried to get back up and couldn't get my jelly legs to cooperate. I knew then that I was in trouble. So, I grabbed the phone off the desk and threw it on the couch. Then I pulled myself over to the couch and got up on it. I called my doc's office and my speech was really slurred. I told them that I needed to come in and see her. My daughter already had an appointment so I thought I could just go in with her. The nurse probably thought I was hittin' the sauce kinda early in the day, I was slurring my words so badly.
My thought was that I took my meds wrong or they were reacting to each other or something like that. So, I called my m-i-l to see if she would check on me in a couple of hours. All I wanted to do at that point was go to sleep. Well, I could hardly put words together at that point. I knew I was in big trouble. So, I called my hubby's work (it took 3 times to get the phone number right, because I was having a really hard time remembering the numbers). Once I got through this woman answered and I told her to have Stu call me right away when he got back in the office. Told her who I was and all that. I guess she couldn't understand me, because I was slurring so much. Well, she told Stu that some crazy lady called for him while he was gone and she didn't get a name, etc. Oh, boy!
Awhile went by, I don't know how long, so, I pushed redial. Thankfully, he answered. All I could say was, "Help...911...help...OD". He started asking questions and I just said help. I couldn't think or anything. I just needed him to call 911, because I didn't know how to give directions to our house and couldn't remember the address, I was so out of it. Plus, we live out in the sticks, so the directions are like, "you go past this big oak tree and veer toward the left where you'll see a big boulder. Go around that and you'll find this little path and that's when you switch into 4-wheel drive, etc, etc". I have no idea how to give directions even in the city, so I sure as hell can't give directions here! So, I hung up and he called 911. All I wanted to do was go to sleep, so I did.
The paramedics got here about the same time my hubby did. I don't know how long it was, because I was unconscious. I could hear them yelling at me, but I just couldn't wake up. I wanted to, but I was way too tired.
Anyway, they got me down to the hospital and in the ambulance they gave me something and an i/v that seemed to help, because I woke up here and there, but it was a struggle to stay awake. So, this whole time, they're thinking that I o.d.'d and speculating whether or not it was a suicide attempt (NO WAY!).
They did get me to wake up in the hospital. They just kept yelling at me and shaking me, but I really couldn't answer all the questions. It was very frustrating and I started crying. I couldn't move my legs and arms. I just felt so weak and helpless.
I did get better throughout the day and they released me at around 5pm. They have no idea what happened to me. They ran blood work and a cat scan and, at the time, said everything looked normal. My symptoms didn't fit overdosing (thank goodness) or a med reaction--especially since I took only the amounts that I was supposed to take and did nothing different than usual.
I went for a follow up with my doc yesterday and she's completely baffled by my symptoms. I do have some kind of infection in my body, though, because, contrary to what they told us in the hospital, my white blood cell count is really high. There's some other blood test that showed some problem vascularly, too, but it's not conclusive as to what. So, she thinks that it's possible that I had a TIA (guess that's like a mini-stroke or something), but until it's confirmed, they can't treat me. Which is fine with me. I don't want to be treated (translate that "drugs") unless we know why we're doing that. I'd rather have this problem confirmed. The doc at the hospital strongly urged, actually she begged, me to see a neurologist ASAP.
Of course, the problem with that is that no neurologist in the northern state will take state insurance. So, we're back to the problem of trying to get in to a university hospital, which is what we've been trying to do for forever and hasn't exactly been panning out.
I feel alot better today. Just spacey, but everything makes sense and I don't feel the need to sleep all day long, so that's good. My left leg is back to normal and so's my left arm, which were the ones that were giving me the most trouble. I have a bad headache today, bordering on migraine, but I don't want to take my mig meds. I don't know why, I'm just a little freaked out about that right now.
The weird thing is that during all of this, I wasn't scared in the least. I had a little anxiety about what was happening to me, because I didn't understand it. And I was frustrated that I couldn't find the words for things or answer basic questions like, "When's your birthday". Other than that, I had complete peace about the situation and I think it's because I've finally come to a place where when something this out of control happens in my life, I just think, "Oh, well, God will take care of me, I don't need to fret." And that's exactly what I was feeling, even if I couldn't put it into words at the time, that God was in control and I just didn't need to worry. I felt protected. I'm glad I had that experience, not the experience of all the symptoms and what I went through (don't get me wrong, I hated that!), but the experience that I know what peace is.
My Grandma
Ok, so Mom says I should have something prepared to say about Grandma at her funeral. I hate talking about stuff like this. I mean, it's really hard for me to talk about people who were soooo important to me, because I'd rather keep those thoughts to myself and tuck them away in my heart. But, here goes, I'm going to try. It won't do her justice though. She was truly a Proverbs 31 kind of woman.
My grandma was a very wonderful person. I loved her very much and she loved me even more. She is the one grandma that I considered my true grandma. I had a blood grandma who I wasn't really close too. And my other grandparents always made a point to let me know that I wasn't their "real" grandchild. They made me feel like a charity case. Like they were just nice to me, because they didn't want it to "look" like I was less important to my brothers, even though, to them, I was. But, Grandma Pat NEVER treated me like that. She never mentioned the fact that I was her step-grandkid, and never made me feel like that.
Grandma was really great to me. She'd give me girly gifts like jewelry, dolls and she knitted sweaters for me. Once, when I was about 9 years old, she and Grampa put together this wonderful dollhouse, complete with furnishings and a family to live in it. As everyone knows, Grandma was a wonderful decorator and had really good taste. She decorated that little house beautifully and made everything in it by hand. The little curtains, the bedding, the rugs. Everything.
But, it wasn't the gifts that made me love her. Grandma had a great personality. She was warm and caring about her family and friends. Always wanted to know what was going on with us and how everyone's doing. She loved to socialize. Her favorite thing was to organize potlucks or dinners to get everyone together. And, boy, was she a wonderful cook! She was very interesting and told great stories. She was also brave. She was a single mom while Mike and his brother were growing up and tried hard to do the very best she could by her family. I'd imagine that it was alot harder in those days to raise a family and still work, while she was on her own, but she did it. What an accomplishment.
Her marriage is also inspiring. She was married to Grampa Bob for a long time and always seemed to be in-love with him. You could tell by the way she looked at him and the way she cared for him. She really enjoyed cooking for him and when Grampa got diabetes, she learned how to cook and bake for his needs. She didn't seem to mind at all. She was a good example of a strong, independent woman with a loving heart.
2 Blog Day, Again
I have a slight migraine today. Hurts, but not as much as it did before the shots. I still get them. See the way the shots work is they only go up to a certain point in the nerves, so I still get the occular migraines and sometimes a migraine on top of my head. I'm also nauseous today, for the first time in weeks. It's ok though. It'll go away really fast and the great thing is that I just have to take 800 mg.s of Ibuprofen or if that doesn't work, Exedrin or Aleve. It's really great to not have to use a pain killer to get rid of it, now. And, instead of the mig starting at a level 5 or 6, it's just a 3 and most likely won't get worse than that. That's the difference those shots make. Plus, I won't have it constantly. I mean, it actually goes away! And it's rare that I get the migs on top of my head now, too. I do get the occulars alot, but I can deal with those, because they usually go away within 1/2 hour or less. The shots, to me, are such a miracle. I still want that surgery, though, because that'll be a permanent solution. So, even though I have a small migraine today, I am thankful.
Empowerment of Women
I was thinking about the first stanza to Gwen Stefani's new song, "Rich Girl". I like the song and I'll tell you why in a second. First, here are the lyrics:
"
If I was a rich girl (na, na....)
See, I'd have all the money in the world, if I was a wealthy girl
No man could test me, impress me, my cash flow would never ever end
Cause I'd have all the money in the world, if I was a wealthy girl"
I was thinking about feminism and the liberation of women in our country. It's so amazing to me that we're free to choose our lifestyles, now. Even in the days of the Roman Empire, who were considered very progressive at the time, because they allowed women to hold jobs, (if the husband permitted, or they were single), and women could divorce their husbands. But, even then, they couldn't inherit. A woman's husband inherited her money when her parent's died. And, if a husband divorced his wife, she was completely on her own without any financial power whatsoever. Typically, her family would reject her, unless she had a kind father or there were some kind of extenuating circumstance, or the marriage was never consummated. But, then she couldn't remarry, or shouldn't. He could divorce her for any reason he wanted (nothing's changed that way; at least, not in California), and she'd just be thrown out of the house without a penny to her name.
Now, we can have jobs, our own bank accounts and if we divorce we can, sometimes, get alimony. But, the most important thing that feminism has given us is the power to marry or not. If we don't want to marry, no one can force us into an arranged marriage, and we don't have to marry in order to be financially secure. We don't need men. We may want them, but we don't
NEED them. It's a fantastic gift, like being released from slavery. And if we don't like the guy we're with, we can kick his butt to the curb. I think that we take our emancipation for granted in our everyday lives. But, really, we should stop and be grateful every once in awhile for it. Maybe when we're cashing our paychecks. :D
On to Bigger and Better Things
My grandma died tonight and went to be with Jesus. I'm going to miss her very much.
PTMD
I think I have Post Traumatic Migraine Disorder. Today, I got a headache and immediately fear gripped my heart and I thought, "Oh, God, not again! It's too soon!" I layed down and tried not to stress out about it. It never went past headache status, which is what's supposed to happen with the trigger shots.
Most people get total relief from migraines and headaches with the shots, but I still get headaches and occular migraines (it's a different nerve and you can't put a shot next to it, too risky). But, the great thing is that the headache doesn't get real bad and it actually goes away.
The occulars are a completely different story and they run their course, unless I give myself an imitrex injection. I was so relieved when the headache went away. And then, of course, I chided myself for being so "silly". But, really, can you blame me?
Self-righteous Hypocrites
Ok, so today's blog isn't about pain or migraines. I just want to bitch about something that really sticks in my craw.
I have a couple of friendswho are either vegetarian or vegan. They are so obnoxious sometimes. I mean, if you don't want to eat meat or animal products fine, that's your business, but don't try to force your opinions on me! It is so annoying to go to lunch with them, because they sit there and critisize my choices or make faces. If I talk about eating, say, salmon, like, "I had the best salmon dinner last night. It was so good." They get all weirded out and go into their whole speech tangent about why they don't believe in eating animals, and they're animal rights activists, blah, blah, blah. Do I really have to hear this EVERY SINGLE TIME? I'm about to drop them as friends, because it's just so obnoxious!
Which brings me to another and different subject. I was at my mom's house yesterday for my daughter's b-day party and EVERYONE from my family was there. It was SOOO much fun! Now, everyone in my family is Christian and conservative, and most of them are more conservative than me. Anyway, my mom loves to watch the Ellen DeGeneres show, as do I. So, she brought up the subject of Ellen somehow (I think she does it just to bug everyone, tee-hee, good for her). And, man! The conversation that followed was absolutely heated.
I mean, there were sentences tossed around like, "I can't stand her! She's nasty!" Why? Because she's gay. What she does is a sin! She's such a sinner (aren't we all?). I hope she gets converted (as if they can CHOOSE their sexuality). Etc. You can imagine.
So, I'm sitting there and I said, "Well I LOVE Ellen. I think she's great!" And one of my sis-in-laws, standing next to me, says, "How can you say that?" And I say, "Because I do! I think she's a generous, sweet, thoughtful person, not to mention the funniest person on the planet. And I love it that she has always had such a clean act. She never gets into profanity or disgusting subjects in her act." To which she said, "How can you say she's clean? She's totally dirty and her act is disgusting!" I said, "Have you even SEEN her act? Have you ever watched her program?" Of course, she never had and said she never would want to.
My brothers were saying how it's a sin, it's a demon, and she needs to get "saved" so she can be converted to heterosexuality, blah, blah, blah.
For one thing, no one can say whether someone knows Jesus or what their personal relationship is with God, so I never assume that someone is or isn't. Secondly, what bothered me the very most about the discussion is that there was so much venom in everyone's attitudes and to me that doesn't seem like a very Christian attitude.
Thirdly, the idea that you wouldn't even like someone just because of their sexual preference or any other superficial reason like skin color, haircut, where they have what pierced, etc. smacks of prejudice so profoundly that it makes me sick to my stomach. It's one thing if you don't like someone because they're mean to you personally, or they terrorize others (ie Hitler, Stalin, Bin Laden, Hussein, etc.), or because they're a serial killer or rapist, etc. But, to just make up your mind that you don't like someone just because they don't share your particular religious or political beliefs, as well as the other traits that I mentioned, is assinine!
I have questions about the gay lifestyle that I still haven't answered for myself, but I don't go around hating gays because I don't "approve" of their lifestyle (which is not true in my case. I really could care less what people do in their own homes, etc.). I find that offensive and pretty self-righteous.
Let's just take the premise that it's a sin. Is it any bigger sin than any of the ones that we commit all the time: lying, cursing, hurting someone's feelings on purpose, committing adultery, not honoring out parents, etc. Why is it that it's a worse sin, because someone's gay? I really don't get the attitudes.
Here's another thought to chew on: The bible actually says that God made Eunuchs. What do people think a Eunuch is? I mean, some became that way because they were enslaved in those days, but most of them were that way because God made them that way. Here is one of the great mysteries of the bible, to me, that I can't explain and this is why I am not opinionated about them. Because then the bible has other passages that say it's an abomination for a gay to act out on their instincts. Why would God create someone a certain way and then expect them to deny completely what comes naturally to them. It doesn't make any sense to me. I'm not saying that the Bible isn't true, because for a Christian, it is the Source of Truth and Wisdom. I'm just saying that I don't get it.
Anyway, I digress. I just basically want to say that if you have an opinion on something, I don't see anything wrong with speaking your mind about it. I do see something wrong in critisizing others opinions though. It's childish, like you have to have your own way and no one elses opinions matter as much as yours. That if someone's opinion is different than your own, they're obviously wrong.
I feel like our country is becoming a nation of self-righteous punks, beginning with Hollywood on down to us "commoners". And I'm getting kind of sick of the intolerance. It seems like everyone preaches tolerance, but hypocritically, no one actually DOES it. We are quick to judge, say the first thing that pops into our heads, and lazilly, don't spend any time actually thinking about the subjects that come up. It's a sad statement on our society that shows that we haven't come as far as politicians would like us to believe since the days of the Civil Rights Movement. Martin Luther King, Jr. tried to get us to understand the concept of not judging someone on a superficial plane, but to judge a man's character. If the person's character sucks, then you just avoid him. But, if they have a good and kind character, then that's a person worth exploring a relationship with.
So, next time you want to give me your opinion, I expect you to return the courtesy of listening to my opinion, just like I listen to yours. And if we don't agree, and can't persuade each other through a kind debate, then we just agree to disagree and change the subject. Agreed? Let's not be such hypocrites or so self-righteous.
Whew! Felt good to get all of that off my chest! Ok, I'm climbing down off my soap box now.
Anyone Out There?
I wonder if anyone ever reads this? lol If you do, please leave a comment. I'm just really curious. Thanks!
Life Is Beautiful
I don't know why, but I was thinking, today, about a recurring nightmare I had growing up. I was in a concentration camp, along with my mother and brothers. Then we go through everything that the concentration camp victims went through. The dream ends with us being shot, my mom and brothers first, so that I had to watch, and then after we were dead, we were dumped in a mass grave and covered with dirt. I know there's this idea out there that if you die in your dreams you'll die in reality. Where does that idea come from? I mean, how would anyone know that? Anyway, I died in my dreams, every time, and I'm still alive, so either I'm a psychological anomaly or I've debunked that theory.
I think I had that dream for years, because of the helplessness I felt by being trapped in a family, with parents who were abusive and neglectful. Kids are so helpless and need to be defended and when you don't have any control over your life, well, you feel like you're in a concentration camp, subjected to abuse every day. Once I grew up and started having control over my own life, after moving out of the house, I stopped having the dream.
Today, I started to think about that movie, "Life is Beautiful", starring Roberto Benigni. I thought about all the jews who ended up in the camps. They came from all walks of life, rich and poor, good citizens and bad, religious and non-religious and were all dumped into the same situation, together. And each person had a choice of how they were going to deal with the circumstance. Simplified down to black and white terms the choices were either to be bitter or to sustain hope.
Whenever we go through a nightmarish circumstance that seemingly takes all control out of our hands, especially if it's chronic, like being a migraneur, we have the same choice to make. Do we allow bitterness to poison our hearts or do we sustain hope? Whichever we choose comes from our character, value set and from what is within us. It's a conscious choice that we make.
I think bitterness is a very human emotion and the first one we choose when we become sick and have chronic pain. It's very natural to do that, because bitterness is easy. It's easy to be bitter. It's not easy to live in bitterness. Bitterness quickly admits and accepts defeat. Bitterness is a prison of our own making. It skews our perception of life and those around us. Bitterness is poison. A poison that creeps so slowly into your psyche that you hardly realize it until you are sick with it. It blinds you to love. It is the exact opposite of hope and a cousin to despair and desolation. You can't share bitterness. No one wants it. No one wants to be around it. It tightens around you like a python with it's prey, squeezing the life out of you, choking out love. But, Love is the antidote for Bitterness.
Choosing to have a positive attitude, an attitude of hope, is very hard to do when you're in those circumstances. It's hard to sustain the belief that your circumstances will change. It's even harder to sustain hope when you know that those circumstances are most likely not going to change.
I believe that sustaining hope is one of the paths to peace. How can this be? Hope is constant. It continues on and never ends, even if we die. Hope continues on in spite of the facts of our circumstances and is not dependent on them.
Let me explain it this way. Let's say you want to drink some water. If you pour water into a cup, it is water. If the cup that contains the water were to break, the water is still, water. The water spills on the table and the floor, but just because the container that holds it changes, it doesn't change the fact that it's still water. This is the same way with hope. It abides. But, the container may change. The container is not the water. Even when you clean it up off the table and the floor with a paper towel, it is still water. It's just changed containers, again.
Hope doesn't change because of the circumstances. Hope does or may change you. Hope is not the same thing as optimism. It's not the belief that everything will turn out ok. Many people confuse hope with optimism, but they are not the same thing. Hope is the confident understanding that you are not your circumstance. If a ship at sea encounters a storm and is buffeted and tossed, does that mean that the ship has become the sea or vice versa? They are two separate things though at times it may not feel that way. I don't think that hope is a feeling. It is a verb, an action, a decision you make not to allow the circumstance to become you or vice versa.
Getting a Breather
I had to get another trigger shot on Monday. Just needed some fine tuning. I can't believe how much better I feel! I'm finally getting a breather from the pain! Thank you Jesus! I tell you what, I feel like a new person. I feel like I've reached the stage of enlightenment! lol It's just such a good feeling to finally be out of pain, even if it's temporary.
The true test will be today. I'm going to attempt to go to town with my husband. It's about an hour and a half drive, so we'll see how I do. I have a feeling that I'll do fine though.
My smile and my laugh are back too. It feels so good to smile again. Now, I just need to get my body to relax. I think my body is just waiting for the other shoe to drop. My shoulders are literally up around my ears! I just feel so much better and I have learned what mercy must feel like. You know, when you're rescued from a nightmare, that's mercy.
Did the Shots Work?
Well, I got the shots on Monday. I already had a migraine with a pain level of 7 before I got the shots. But, I couldn't take any meds for it, because we had to know if the occipital nerve was numbing up or not.
So, there I am with a horrible migraine and trying to prepare myself mentally for the kind of pain I was about to be in and praying that I wouldn't pass out.
If you can imagine: they take a very long, very big needle and stick it as close as possible next to the nerve. Unlike most trigger injections, which are basically just shots under the skin and don't really hurt more than a regular shot, because mine was in my occipital region, they have to stick the needle in quite a bit further. There are alot of blood vessels and a small artery that they have to be really careful to work around--and hopefully miss.
I never cried before when I got them. I'm a pretty tough bird and rarely cry. When my pl reaches an 8 or 9, that's when I start crying. I cried like a big baby when I got these shots. I was so embarrassed. My doctor really wanted to give me drugs before she did the shots, but I told her that we couldn't do that or we wouldn't know if the nerves got numb like they're supposed to. But, afterward, she rushed to give me the drugs that I totally needed and mercifully they worked within about 2 minutes. Yay!
So, I'm pretty sure she got the meds in the right spot. It was her first time doing it, so I'm sort of a guinea pig. But, I think she did great!
Ok, so the first three days after the shots, I knew that I wouldn't have a migraine, because I got the drugs after the shots and they always last in my system for three days. So, for three days, I laid on the couch with ice packs on the back of my head, because it was so sore. It was hard to sleep. But, the first thing I noticed is that the nausea disappeared--completely. I haven't been nauseaus all week! I've been eating pretty regular foods. No more chicken wantan soup (my comfort food).
But then, I got a cold and with it a sinus headache. But, I can tell the difference between a sinus headache and a migraine. Today is the big day when I'll know for sure if the shots worked or not. And, hey, for the first time in almost 10 months, I've woken up without a migraine! It's such a relief. I could cry. It's so amazing how those shots work. Now, I feel like I have some hope of having an actual life. I can't wait to go to lunch with my mom. Go on walks with my m-i-l. And just plain get the hell out of the house--my prison that I've been stuck in, depressingly enough, for the last 10 months.
I can't wait.
