Migraineur is a funny word; coincidentally, its first known
use was in 1970, the year I was born, perhaps in tribute of its newest victim. It’s
as if we are so good at migraines, we
can market them! After experiencing a doozy of a migraine over the past
twenty-four hours, I was prompted to write about them. The topic is a bit odd among my collection of posts,
I realize, but let’s see where this goes...
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| I've done my research and tried many remedies |
My first migraine came when I was eighteen and in college. To be sure, it could just as easily have been a hangover at that phase in my life, but in this case, was verifiably not. I recall having to miss classes that day, and the next, to hole myself up in my room with not only the shades pulled, but with a quilt tacked up over the window as well, to provide maximum darkness. Even the slightest sound made me think my head would explode. I had no appetite and even vomited, this time through no fault of my own. In short, I thought I was dying .
Little did I know these would continue to plague me over the next twenty-five years, or longer.
One of the many blessings of becoming a mother when I was
almost twenty-four was the cessation of my migraines, for the most part. Though
I did experience them during the first trimester of my second pregnancy when I
was twenty-six, they largely disappeared until I turned thirty-two. Since that
time, I have suffered from roughly five to six per month, many of them
extremely debilitating and lasting anywhere from twelve to seventy-two hours. At
the time they began reoccurring, I was a single mother with two small girls and a veritable zoo of
animals, working full-time, so life simply had to go on. Medication in the
states was beyond my reach, with astronomical out-of-pocket insurance expenses, so I
often just rode out the pain. I recall barely making it through the workdays,
and then performing the bare minimum of tasks and parenting responsibilities before
succumbing to the pain and taking refuge in my bed. Years later, it broke my
heart when I asked my girls how they remembered those times. My eldest daughter
said they felt guilty that they couldn’t stop my pain, and sometimes felt that
they were the cause. She said they would tip toe around the house trying not to
disturb me, and would try to be very responsible, looking after themselves as
best they could. No child should EVER have to bear that burden. Sadly, my
younger daughter already shows signs of having inherited the dreaded migraine curse.
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| My daily preventative trio, and my emergency kit |
Since moving to the Middle East in 2012 where medical care is reasonable and drugs are for the most part very affordable, and often available
over-the-counter for these types of things, I have been able to treat my
migraines when they come. Even so, the loss of days, which add up to years, due
to frequent migraine pain can leave one with a sense of hopelessness, dread and even impending doom. I know that sounds dramatic, but it is absolutely
true. On the flip side, when migraineurs are well, they are so very grateful for
each day that they feel so. I’m not going to go into the “why people get
migraines” and the “what treatments work” or the “preventative lifestyles” of
it all, because that varies on a case-by-case basis, but studies have shown a
hereditary link, and scientific research on the topic is boundless and
fascinating. About a year ago, a neurologist here in Jordan saw me and
prescribed an amazing trio that has so far prevented my migraines, or at least
dramatically reduced their frequency. I take 100 mg. of Vitamin B2
(Riboflavin), 100 mg. of Magnesium, and 25 mg. of a beta-blocker, typically
used to treat high blood pressure. For me, this daily combo has been a
life-changer. I've gone from five or six episodes a month to usually just one, but the best
part is the intensity is much less and I can often treat them with an
over-the-counter drug such as Excedrin Migraine or Panadol Advanced along with
Naproxen sodium.
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| Ellie, keeping guard outside my door during an attack |
Usually one of my first warning signs is a heightened sense of smell. Often, I will swear that something is burning and go about
the house sniffing outlets, usually looking for an electrical fire. The phantom smell
is always one of burning wires and plastic, or sometimes propane gas. Perfume
can also be a trigger for me, or artificial smells such as air-fresheners or household
cleaning products. This olfactory sensitivity would always be my daughters’ first clue that I was
about to have an attack. Strangely, my dog would often be very clingy with me
just before an episode, as if she sensed the storm before I even knew it was
about to hit. Right before an attack, my eyes will often feel strange, like I
need to stretch my eyeballs, and very occasionally I see an aura behind my eyes,
and my neck chords almost always becomes tight and painful.
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| Ellie, right next to my bed, worried and protective. |
Last night, however, was an exception–it was a once-in-two-or-three-years
migraine attack. It came on suddenly with none of the typical warning signs I
usually get to give me a clue. I was at work, and felt a “headache” during the last hour
of the day, but was still chatting, even smiling and laughing. One hour later,
I was down for the count. My husband was downstairs enjoying family time and at
two and a half hours into the attack, I had to text him that I needed him to give
me an injection, but that I had an empty stomach and was nauseous. I knew I
needed to eat before getting the shot, so choked down my "migraine special" of
white rice, dry toast, and plain yogurt with cucumber and mint that he brought
up to me. He gave me the shot, which usually works within two to three minutes,
and I confidently waited. Instead, it made things much worse for some reason. I was writhing in
pain, trying to find a comfortable position, had my earplugs in and eye mask
on, and was trying to apply an ice-pack and pressure to my forehead. By 8:00
p.m., I was begging for our acupuncturist/acupressurist, and he kindly
accommodated on short notice as he often does when I get an attack.
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| One of the several prayers I have memorized that I recite when I'm having a migraine attack. |
While I
waited for Dr. Chang to arrive, I kneeled on a pillow on the floor with my head on the edge of
my bed against an ice-pack while my husband gently rubbed my back and just
calmed me with his silent presence. I discovered about two migraines ago that
listening to meditative music (specifically spoken or chanted prayers from my
faith, and very mellow classical or nature music) takes my mind off the pain,
and allows me to focus on something else, so I did that as well. Finally, I did
vomit and felt much better. After the doctor worked on me for about an hour,
the pain was lessened, but still there and I could hear the blood rhythmically
swooshing through my temples as I lay my head on my pillow. I slept poorly, off
and on, and woke up a train-wreck, with a typical “migraine hangover.” Once a
migraine starts to subside, my husband always asks, “How do you feel NOW?” My
reply is always, “Fragile.” That’s the best term I can come up with to describe
the day-after effect. Today was lost to catch-up sleep and general malaise.
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| Face and scalp stuck full of acupuncture needles last night |
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| Dr. Chang is a true healer and I always tell him that. |
All this detail is part of the picture I want to paint for
non-migraineurs so they can understand the impact these headaches can have on
those who love and support migraine sufferers. It is not all about migraineurs;
their families also suffer greatly. They feel helpless to take the pain away, they get frustrated, inconvenienced, and I’m sure they get just plain sick and tired of dealing with the episodes. I read a
statistic today that stated that 10% of migraine sufferers get divorced due to
their illnesses. Apparently, some partners finally get fed up, or the migraineurs
are so miserable to live with that they drive their partners away. Thankfully
for me, I have an understanding husband who is selfless, supportive, nurturing
and kind, but who also sadly can relate to my pain as a cluster-headache
sufferer himself. His condition, a rare and cyclical one that affects mostly men, is said to cause pain ten times
the intensity of a migraine, and is likened to having a limb amputated without
anesthetic. He can get daily attacks for up to a month
at a time, typically every eighteen months in his case. After a few years of
misdiagnosis, he was finally properly diagnosed last year, and oddly enough,
takes the same Imigran injection that I do for my migraines. So, we’re a broken
pair, but that suits us just fine because we can empathize with one another and know how to support each other when in pain.
This post is for all the ladies in my life who suffer from
migraines: my youngest daughter, my older sister, several of my sisters-in-law, cousins, and countless other good friends and acquaintances. I personally don’t know any
men who get them, but this is for them, too! I know there is no cure, and
sometimes it feels no end is in sight. Many people think we make up the pain, that we are seeking attention, that we are weak or somehow overly dramatic. We miss work sometimes, and we
have to bow out on social functions and family gatherings from time to time. We
suffer from insomnia, and sometimes even anxiety and mild depression. We can be
cranky, and need to be left alone. For all of this, we are sorry. We feel guilty. We don’t seek
sympathy; we seek understanding. To non-migraineurs, I say only that I hope you
never experience a bad migraine–I wouldn’t wish one on anybody. I know there
are far worse chronic or acute conditions and diseases that people suffer from, and in no
way do I discount them. Migraines are just among the few misunderstood chronic
conditions that people cannot relate to unless they have had one. Maybe this
post will inspire others to have a little better understanding of and
compassion for sufferers everywhere who deal with migraines and other chronic illnesses. It’s definitely an interesting
journey. There is a saying, "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger." I would add "grateful" to that statement. So many of my friends are true heroes who suffer from chronic pain, some on a daily basis, and who still manage to be cheerful and positive, and are even in the constant service of others. They make my migraines seem like a party in my head.
Want to learn more?
migraines.org
migraine.com
Cheers! Here’s to a new day!
~M.
