Lord If You Hear Me, Touch Me and Hold Me, Keep Me From Blowing Away

My migraines are starting to scare me a little.  They come so strong and feel like they're frying up my brain cells.  And if I understand my neurologist correctly, they kind of are doing that.  She says damage can happen if you don't get a handle on them. Could bring on a stroke or dementia.   She tells me this in the scolding way one would speak with their teenage son.  Medications and remedies?  We're still trial and error'ing them sonsabitches.  I'm against her next step suggestions, steroids or Botox injections.  That all sounds like no thank you!  I'm freaky enough. Oh and keep your stress level low she says.  Meanwhile I'm developing a fear of these things lurking around the corner, like the boogey-man.

And yes, I could be more strict on my diet but I'm doing the best I can with my small stash of self control.  In my opinion, I've given up almost every vice that brings me joy in life.  What else must I sacrifice in order to ensure I don't wake up with my head on fire?  And as if they are not violent enough the next day I feel like I spent all night at a Fight Club.  I'm sluggish and dizzy. I'm weak and depressed.  Who wouldn't be?  This shit has made me pray for spontaneous combustion.

Migraines are like an enemy that you know.  People don't realize this but before they strike many times you'll get signs. Like with me, I'll get a stiff neck or yawn a lot the day before.  I'll start to feel slow and unable to focus well.  As in the horror movies, you feel it coming.  Right before it hits, I'll get a really bad headache that feels like it's far away.  Like a freight train coming in the distance.  One that maybe I could live with but within minutes it becomes apparent it will go full blown. That moment that you contend.  It's coming straight for you. Freddy Kruger is in the room.  The pain intensifies until if feels it couldn't continue.  Now you're unable to communicate needs.  You can't tell what your body will do. You know it's gonna hurt so bad to vomit but you hurl uncontrollably, usually with no food in your belly.  And sometimes, when it's an extra special one, you do this for an hour or so until basically you're unable to physically heave your stomach any longer.  Running back and forth, holding your head, shielding the light. Throbbing to full ferocity, with all your mental strength left you try desperately to shut down your engines.  You lie down and pray you can stay down because any movement is hell.  Even the slightest bit of light hits your eyes like full on sun so you pull the blankets and pillows as a barricade.  Later, sometimes much, if there is a God, you begin to feel the contractions subside.  The slow pulling away of the drum beat.  Usually I fall asleep but pass out is more fitting a term.

Two cool things about this.  They do go away eventually and you are so grateful to be normal again, albeit a little worse for the wear.  And P has begun to feel sympathy and is cooking dinner on these occasions.  Like this night.  A well seasoned minute steak with drunken asparagus and sweet corn.  Delicious!