But You Won’t.

I’ve been absent. I don’t really know what to say about it. While my participation in the CGRP Study has been amazing, and I have longer pain-free periods, somehow I end up in the ER more often. Everything in my life is changing. J had to resign from his job over unfair labor practices and…

Lesions & Lessons (or: Life Sucks and Then You Go Back To Bed)

Today has been a Very Bad Day. It started with a terrible headache, pulsating in rhythm with the twitching of my left eye, which has been happening recently upon the acquisition of an ugly, painful, stigmata-like wound on my corresponding temple. Starting as an odd, tiny bump, it increased in size and noticeability as I…

Day 13: slumber party

Today wasn’t great. I got a bad headache at around lunchtime and almost didn’t make it to my brother’s gathering for our birthdays. X was exhausted from her sleepover; both she and Zo were frustrating to deal with. And tomorrow it all begins again. Migraine365, Day 13:

Day 12: |some days are normal|

Here is yesterday’s Migraine365 page: < And a close up of the journal page, about Alice In Wonderland: < Text of Page: 08.30.14 | Day 12: {Some Days Are Normal} | Migraine365 | Zo and X played with their Furbies outside | elizabeth had a low-level weather migraine all day.| X was sick with a…

Challenges: Personal and Otherwise

  From the very start, I have had mixed feelings about the Ice Bucket Challenge. Undeniably the online phenomenon, which quickly went viral, has raised a huge amount of money for ALS, regardless of what percentage of the funds actually get used for research (which is a discrepancy some have pointed out). Another truth is,…

The Migraine Diaries: Four [1978]

It would start with a silent pop, a feeling of letting go, somewhere deep between the eyes and behind the bridge of my nose. Next came a similar burst of panic in my chest, rapid searching for the nearest tissues, washable cloth, or, if all else failed, a place to hide and cup my hand…

The Migraine Diaries: Three [1981]

Scuffed brown shoes, slither-slap, slither-slap on the worn but clean linoleum floor as I wait anxiously for the nurse Dr. Brown said would be arriving shortly. I have what they called a “gown” on top but this is nothing Cinderella would even have worn to clean out Lucifer’s litter box. Blue paper, white ties. Which…

The Migraine Diaries: One [1976]

Tiny little head, big bed. Diffuse curtain light too bright. Is it supposed to feel this way? Drifting miniature fairies dance the length of the beam. “Dust,” mama whispers, pressing the cool cloth gently across my forehead. It hurts more on the other side, but I don’t tell her. I close my stinging eyes, then…