I've had stinkin' Migrain's for 10+ years. Some are just nagging. "Hello. I've come to worry you into thinking I'm gonna get out of hand. Does this bug you? Does this bug you? Does this bug you?". Others are Show Stoppers. "I'm gonna slap you silly and make you wish you were born a worm (no heads). Don't even THINK of enjoying anything ." Then there's the fateful Stompers. "You, my dear witless victim, are going to sleep for days. Fall off toilets. Throw up and smack your head on the toilet rim (bwaahaha, double whammy!) Live in a dark cave with sunglasses on and disappear from life for days on end."
This week I've been visited by the Show Stopper variety. Daytime is pretty slow. Gotta keep my movements to the turtle speed. But nights have been cooking up closer to the Stomper show. Sunglasses in the dark. TV on low. Ice packs. And my second best friend-Phenargen. I reserve the first best friend spot for, insert heavenly music here, Percocet.
Even feeling crummy I'm thankful. I'm thankful it's not worse. I've had some doozies. But I'm also thankful for those doozies.! 5 years ago this month I was in the hospital cause one was being so hateful to me. The powers that be did an MRI to be sure I didn't have a bleed. No bleed but it showed a small anyrism. (spell check doesn't work here). Went to some specialist high mucky muck doc in Indy and voila! it had gotten bigger. Bigger ain't better in all circles. So a couple weeks later he warmed up his chainsaw and stapled that sucker. Done! Whew.
Thus the best headache story ever....After surgery I'm still fairly wobbly, using a walker and I had a Stomper. I toddled off the the bathroom to kneel before the porcelain alter. I'm in there yacking up from deep down in the toe area and whacked my "dent" on the edge of the alter, hard enough to throw me backwards into the wall, thumped the BACK of my head against the wall, thumped my behind to the floor and promptly wet myself. All I could think was Moe, Larry and Curly got nothin' on me. I'm laughing so hard my poor, worried Mom comes flyin in. She finds me, Frankenstein face, sitting on the floor, in a puddle, the walker on top of me (knocked it over in the melee) laughing like the village idiot. Oh, sweet dignity, forever lost.