I have suffered with migraines for a long time. At full sail, they are debilitating. They are piercing. It seems to shut down my entire body to a degree where I can barely function. At the cusp of these moments, it’s difficult to take care of myself, let alone my family. During pregnancy, though, the migraines seemed to ease substantially. It was a bonus to 40 weeks of fat ankles and protruding belly buttons. I briefly pondered a span as a surrogate just for this amazing side effect. However, there was the whole birthing experience I would have to endure and that is an unequivocable deal breaker. Shop is closed. I am done. No more.
Unfortunately, the migraines have begun skulking back in here and there. At first, they were sparse and easy to manage. This week, however, I have muddled through four long, subsequent days. I was beginning to wonder if someone had a voodoo doll with my name on it that they kept poking in the head with pins.
As I was battling a tide of migraine induced nausea, my mother called. She asked how I was feeling. “You’re lucky you don’t get headaches more often than you do”, she said.
Are you saying my house is loud? What? I’m sorry, I CAN’T HEAR YOU PAST THE SCREAMING CHILDREN.
I admit, she may have a point.