Back to migraines....

I have been keeping a secret for awhile.
I have been getting migraines for about two months--not bad ones--but they are back.

I have lived in my own denial as well. I hate the implications. I hate thinking (or aknowledging) that I'll have to be back on medication, that I am not invincible, that something is actually wrong with me. I finally told Mike over lunch last week in a conversation that was not supposed to end up in me confessing my migraines or my fears about them. But I did. And somehow it made me feel better that one other person actually knew about this.

Turns out that was a hellofa good decision.

Friday night we took the girls bowling--I had been struggling with a migraine for several days (on and off and not too terrible) and it finally kicked into high gear. Where my vision goes blurry, I start to think I might throw up, and I know that I cannot deny that I am sick. I have to confess -- well because I need help. I decided to call my brother Kennan for his perspective (and I secretly hoped he would tell me that I didn't have to go to the hospital). He did not say what I wanted to hear. Instead he told me to get to an ER and get them to give me drugs to "break" my migraine. So, we dropped children off and Matt/Shannon's and Mike took me to the ER. His first official ER visit with me! (I know, for some people going to the ER is the occaisional, once in a lifetime scenerio, with me, well, you know--I go several times a year). They got an iv going and gave me fluids and the drug that is strong enough to interrupt the migraine. Yeah. I was knocked out -- in a hospital gown and bed-- and we spent our Friday night in the hospital together. Mike was great--he held my hand, he didn't freak out, he made me feel absolutely safe. It was nice not to have to do this alone.

And so, back to the dr I will go. I am sure I'll be put back on depacote and maybe even get to have another MRI. Yeah. I hate this whole thing.

But it could be worse. I do know that.
And I am glad I know how and what to do in these scenerios.
I am glad I have a brother who works in neurology and who went to my previous appointments with me. I'm glad he knows all the medical lingo that I forget...
And super glad to have an emergency contact and bedside companion.
It makes all the difference to have someone who strokes your hair while your brain is setting off fireworks and your mind is freaking out and imagining "tumor" or worse.

And it feels great to get to go home. And go on with your life.
Lucky me.