Everything was fine–or as fine as you could imagine me being over the course of the last few months. I was still having migraines. But I was having silent ones–ones with no pain, just the annoying symptoms they come with.
So when I woke up yesterday I felt fine to drive down the street to get a pedicure with my mom before grocery shopping and then starting my workday. I felt fine when I walked Happy twice. I even felt fine while finally shoveling out the bag of soil I’d been meaning to put down for the last two weeks into my tiny backyard.
After Happy’s second walk of the dog the fatigue finally hit and I went upstairs to take a shower. That’s when the pain part of the migraine came flaring back. My doctor had filled a new prescription for me yesterday through a compounding pharmacy. It was a combination of an old migraine med (Ergot?) and BellaDonna. I had taken one pill the night before but hadn’t seen any relief for the silent migraine. Today he suggest I take two since the dose he’d given me was perhaps too small to be effective.
I took two pills and fell asleep. When I awoke it was with the sensation of someone having drop-kicked me in the head.It took me fifteen minutes to fully wake up and support my neck enough to find my phone–which was dead since I had somehow clicked the off switch on my extension cord block. I took another bleary five minutes to find the button in the darkness, push Happy out of the way, and get it turned on so I could call my doctor.
“Ten times worse,” I said, after he picked up. “What do I do?”
“Go to the ER—we can do it early and get you a shot of dilauded.”
But did I mention that I was totally alone since R.J was in Davie taking a class with my car and my mom was away for the next few days in the Keys? I compromised by taking a Percocet at home and then calling my friend Margo to come lay down with me while I waited for the pain (and the hardcore anxiety of having to take another narcotic painkiller) to pass.
She helped me grab some coke and several ice packs, but also helped me to keep my mind off of things until the meds began to kick in and R.J got home from school.
Eventually I drifted off…but not for long as the pain came roaring back after just an hour and a half. I had to have R.J give me a shot of Torridol (Which usually in and of itself stings like a bitch–but who really cares when your skull is having the worst cramps of its life?)
Again, took about an hour and three rice cakes with cheese for me to drift back into sleep.
It’s just a handful of days left before I’m scheduled to get my Botox treatment. Can’t believe I’m so looking forward to being injected in the face with like 30 shots. But sweet jesus, the tiny pricks of shots are nothing compared to a real migraine. I’m just so ready for some non-narcotic, longer lasting relief.
Never thought of myself as a chronic migraine sufferer before–but Hi, I’m Ilana, and I have a problem.