I am poorly.
Soooo uuuu pppppp! Sooo uuuuu pppp! I would cry, if the thought of soup didn’t make me want to hurl.
I have been poorly since Wednesday evening.
At first I thought I had Oscar’s sickness bug. My stomach was doing low dips and swirls and making rumbling in the jungling noises.
But by the time bedtime came around I had an absolute crasher of a headache. A headache that was making my teeth hurt, and my hair hurt and my joints ache in places I didn’t even know I had joints.
Yar!
I woke up on and off all night, with nasty, tight, thumpy head pains. By the time the alarm went off I could not see straight and felt as sick as a dog.
Oh welcome, great migraine of ever living pooh ha and rubbish.
Jason was a saint. He handed me a bowl, gave me some pain killers, doused the lights and crept off into the fog.
I surfaced at about eleven and staggered downstairs feeling very grim.
Being upright was not a great idea, which became apparent after about twenty minutes of drooping around, holding my head and crying whilst only looking at the world through one eye, because it hurt too much to use two.
Jason sailed in with the children. I did not question this. He was a knight in shining pharmaceuticals and gave me pink migraleve.
Yum.
Pink migraleve, for people like me, who have migraines where your entire system shuts down, are brilliant. Pink migraleve have magic ingredient X in them. It is something that keeps your digestive tract working. This is very good indeed.
I took them just in time.
I was not sick. Oh yes. Oh yes! It is the small victories in the battle against the vicious migraine pixies that count.
I still could not see straight.
I waved vaguely at my family and crawled back to bed with a hot water bottle wrapped in a blanket. I went to sleep with it on my face. Not the most comfortable of poses, but soothing when the inside of your face is making valiant efforts to climb out of your nose and run wild across the bedroom.
I woke again at six o’clock.
The house was ghostly empty. My head pain was duller, although my vision was not entirely right. i.e. I could not see out of my right eye, even when it was open. This kind of thing used to disturb me. Now I take it in my stride.
I wriggled downstairs on my bottom, just in case. Depth perception is not great when you’re only functioning with half your vision.
I found my phone. I called my mother and said: ‘Do you have my children?’ to which she replied in the affirmative. This was a relief. She offered to keep them until this morning. This was a further relief. I find driving with only one eye open quite tricky.
I went back to sleep.
I woke up at nine o’clock. Both eyes worked. I was hungry. I still had a headache, but it was just a headache.
Frabjous day.
I ate strange things, as you do when you’re hung over. Toast, and cous cous mainly.
I felt relieved, and sore.
Victory.
Then I woke up in the night again. Head going ‘bang. bang. bang.’
Oh blimey.
This morning I was still experiencing the jungle drums, and lots of nausea. I staggered into my clothes and drove to my mum’s house. I was determined to get on with my day.
By the time I had parked in her drive, there were small mice wielding knives chopping into my eye socket, and I was shaking.
Not quite the entrance I had planned on making.
I cancelled my appointments, distributed my children and took a lot of codeine.
It is now beginning to work, although I feel slightly trippy.
Better than the knives though.
Much better.
I am sure this is hormone related. I had hardly any PMT this last week before my period started. This usually means I am in for a hum dinger of a period. But I managed for the first two days with regular pain killers and very little bleeding. This is not like me. Not like me at all.
Then, when the migraine started, I simply stopped bleeding, even though I was only on day four of my period. This is not normal.
I did have a doctor’s appointment yesterday, to talk to her about this kind of thing. I had to cancel it, thanks to this kind of thing.
I will remake it, when I can be sure my head is not going to explode into a million bits if I do more than cuddle a hot water bottle and weep.
I wondered if the silence was due to those bloody hormones again. Part of me is of the opinion that you should go to the doctor when you are at your worst just to demonstrate what you are having to deal with, the other half thinks ‘noooooo nooooo, stay in bed, take drugs’. So not much help there then ;-( Hope the weekend brings some relief.
When’s the next appointment?
xox
Sharon
I need to make it. Probably the week after next. It is now officially half term and that means chaos ensues. They only let you make them two weeks ahead, so I will ring next week.x
God, this sounds AWFUL. I stopped having ones like this by my thirties, but mine weren’t hormonal. Go and sit in your doctor’s office and cry and refuse to leave until they do something. Insist on a referral to an endocrinologist or whoever it is who does hormones, as this is just NOT RIGHT.
Mrs Jones
It is rubbish. I can cope with most things, but when I can’t look after the children it really, really gets me down.
You poor thing. It sounds horrendous! Hormones suck. Much sympathy.
Hope you feel better soon and that the doctor(s) can figure it out.
PS – riding a bike with one eye shut is pretty scary too.
Karin
It sounds it. Just riding a bike makes me feel fairly nervous, and that’s with the normal two eye quota.
Oh poor you! It sounds horrendous – I hope it is all passing away now and you’re feeling much better? Hormones do completely suck, I hope you can find out what the triggers are and stop them in their tracks (mixing metaphors but you know what I mean…!) J x
Johnners
I’m thinking of having them removed. The hormones that is.
Love your blog, and coming out of lurkdom to say: I have very similar migraines, and have had for nigh onto 40 years. Recently I’ve had some success with an ice pack applied to the back of my neck; apparently it helps reduce swelling in the blood vessels attached to the brain. At any rate, it’s helped me and might be worth trying. Regardless, I feel your pain and hope you feel better quickly.
Jenn
Oh dear. Poor you. I will try the ice pack, although I always tend to go for the option where there is heat, being a cold mortal. It can’t hurt to give it a go though. Good luck.xx
Blimey, it sounds ghastly. I second the go to your doctor at your worst school of thought. Get Jason to drop you off and leave them to see just how awful it is so they take it seriously.
I hope you are back to normal very quickly now. So glad I don’t have any hormones anymore.
Alienne
Mostly better now ta, although the eye is still doing peculiar things. x
Gulp – in Victorian times you’d have been necking down opium, laudanum and/ or bathtub gin I suppose. Thank goodness for modern medicine, however imperfect – and yes, you need to see your GP when you’re at your worst. Easier said than done, I know. Gentle hugs, and think of your favourite Bridgewater pieces as a soother….
N xxxx
Noreen,
I will.xxx