I’ve been away for a while, but I wanted to give you an update and it all revolves around this: I’m in migraine hell.
Today is day 37 of the longest, most painful migraine of my life.
For the past two decades I have dealt with migraines. And so have most of the females in my family tree: Grandma, Mom, my aunt a have to wrestle with this beast that is oft categorized as a headache but in the reality is so much worse. And in the last 7 or 8 years, the trigeminal neuropathy (i.e. was so severe it was likely masking the migraine pain).
But, as usual, I digress. I have been suffering through this beast since January 14, spending most of my time in my bed under two eye masks in a room shrouded with blackout curtains. The notable exceptions to my sequestration are all medical including:
• Trip to the GP for rescue meds
• Two visits to the ER
• Stanford Pain Clinic
• trigger-point injections
• Stanford: 90 min infusion
• Stanford: 2 days of twice daily injections
• triptan therapy
None of it has worked.
So when the doctor called yesterday I was relieved. She rattled off a list of things to try. More medications and procedures and even a possible hospitalization.
You may think relief is a strange reaction to the long list of uncomfortable options. I agree wholeheartedly with that assessment. None of it is going to be fun. Side effects, pain and trekking to and from the hospital are not at the top of my list of a good time, but this is a doctor that refuses to give up on me and finding one of those like striking gold as a chronic pain patient.
I have been sick for nearly 20 years and getting the doctor brush off is a fear that is always at the back of my mind. Sometimes the worst you can do to someone with chronic pain, “sorry can’t help.”
So as I lay here in my dark room, I hold on to that glimmer of hope. Sometimes that’s all you have. And for today, that’s okay.