And Then I Died

When I was in college, I used to get these horrible migraines once or twice a month.  I'm pretty sure they were stress induced.  Since then, I don't seem to get them as frequently; I probably have three to four a year, and they are pretty manageable.  Last night, though, the devil took up residency in my frontal lobe and poked me with his pitch fork until I wanted to die.  I have never had such a horrible migraine.  Come take a journey with me as I relive an experience that I can only liken to giving birth out of your eye.

There are probably several reasons why I had this migraine.  I think top on the list, though, is the illegal doses of sugar I ingested yesterday.  I'm serious.  I probably ate an entire bag of whopper robin's eggs...for breakfast.  Then, Ben brought me a doughnut for second breakfast.  I thought that if I drank a glass of orange juice I would be satisfying my fruit serving for the day.  My body is not used to eating so much sugar, which is crazy, because I'm pretty sure a few months ago I could have schooled Willy Wonka.  I also think the schizophrenic weather patterns had a part to play, along with a stressful week last week.

I should have known I was going to have a migraine because a little before I left for work I started seeing auras and had spots in my vision.  I'm not really sure why I didn't take anything.  I left for work with an inkling of a headache but nothing serious.  Ten minutes after I got to work, Satan began using my frontal lobe as a bass drum.  I almost left my table a couple times to go throw up, but I was able to stick it out.  It was by the grace of God that I was able to get through the very short two hours of work.

As I drove home, I sought out any bridge I could drive off of to make the pain go away.  When I got home, I whined all the way to the couch and laid there writhing.  Ben told me to take something.  I didn't have anything in my stomach, though, and was afraid taking something would make my nausea worse.  I couldn't take it, though; my head felt as if a baby was going to start crowning from my eye.  You should know that when I have a migraine, I take on this hunchback form.  It's as if standing up straight will make things worse.  So I hobbled to the kitchen and choked down some medicine.  Ten minutes later, I threw up (actually, dry heaved).  Five seconds after that I started crying.  One minute later, I crawled to my bed and asked someone to chop off my head.  There was no one in my room, so no one acquiesced.

Ben came in a little later and told me to come out and eat something.  I cried all the way out to the family room.  I sat on the couch for a minute before the sun-like brightness of our two table lamps made me want to tear my eyes out.  Also, the smell of food made things worse.  I hobbled/crawled back to my bed where I prayed for the sweet release of death.  I couldn't even lay my head on my pillow. 

Four hours later when Ben came to bed, I still had the migraine.  Still!!!  Dear God, it was horrible.  I had that migraine for seven hours.  SEVEN HOURS!!  That is longer than I was in labor.  I kept asking for an epidural, but, again, I was talking to myself.

Today, I have had a few aftershocks, but nothing bad.  It was some of the worst pain I have ever experienced.  I would not wish it on anybody.  Not even Alex Trebek, and I can't stand that guy.