In which my brain tried to explode…

I had a migraine yesterday afternoon.  I generally suffer from migraines for one of two reasons:  allergies (typically during my active period from mid/late January to late March/early April) or PMS/PMDD.  Those I can usually be prepared for; avoid any possible trigger foods or activities, have painkillers handy at all times, and brace for impact.  But yesterday was the first time in a long time that I’ve just had one out of the blue, for no discernible reason other than perhaps the storms that blew through over the weekend and the resulting changes in barometric pressure.

I should have seen it coming.  I had a headache Saturday morning, despite the fact that I’d only had two drinks at my birthday festivities the night before.  (On top of the dance we had to do onstage, I got whipped.  With a whip.  I was not prepared for that.)  I got over it quickly enough and had a fantastic time at round two of the birthday shenanigans, which included a surprise last-minute drum jam and a birthday-girls-only dance in which I ended up chasing Ren around the studio.

Me and Ren immediately after our birthday-dance.

Me and Ren immediately after our birthday-dance.

But when I woke up Sunday, I was in a funk.  Not a hangover; I’d also only had a couple of drinks the night preceding (though it was a fantastic birthday, I failed to get even remotely intoxicated this year).  I thought it was a little because my yoga instructor was sick so class got cancelled, and maybe a little because I couldn’t afford to go to a dance workshop that afternoon that I had really wanted to go to.  But I tried to make the most of it.  I ended up lounging around all day, rereading the perks of being a wallflower in one four-hour sitting and watching the next-to-last disc of BSG.  And then I thought it was some weird reaction to the combination of those two things; I’d forgotten just how intense that book is.  I was almost to the end of a series I’d grown to love, and knew there was only the big three-part series finale left before I’d have to find something new to watch.  I had trouble getting to sleep that night, from thinking of those and thinking of something else a little too personal and fresh to share just yet.

I’m now thinking that this was all just a pre-migraine funk.  That happens sometimes the day or two before; I’ll have a bit of a headache that I can’t really shake and just feel all BLAAAHH.  Lethargic is the word, I think.

And yesterday toward lunch time, I was talking with the woman at work I have come to call The Office Hugger (who incidentally annoys the crap out of me) when that old familiar ache started.  I thought at first it was just having to deal with her; sometimes that happens.  But as the pain grew and was suddenly accompanied by a wave of nausea, I realized it was a big M.

The pain I can handle; it just takes a few Advil or a dose of Excedrin Migraine.  But the nausea is the worst.  I never throw up (knock on wood); I haven’t thrown up since I was a junior in high school.  I just really, REALLY feel like I’m going to.  I sometimes wish I would so at least there would be a point to being so incredibly nauseated.  Nothing I have ever taken, prescription or OTC, has been able to put even a dent in the nausea; in fact several of the prescriptions made it worse.  Ironically enough, the only thing that does help is eating something, which takes every ounce of determination in me to accomplish.

I ended up going home a few hours early; I just couldn’t power through to the end of the day.  I went home, forced myself to eat something, and lay down without actually going to sleep.  I had just enough energy by the evening to put the dishes in the dishwasher, eat a bowl of cereal, and watch the BSG series finale before going to bed and sleeping a little better, but fitfully.

Now, I sit at my desk in a post-migraine funk.  When I have a whopper like that, it takes me a day or two to shake the residual headache and mild nausea before I feel somewhat human again.  The fact that work is maddeningly quiet and there’s fluid stuck in my right ear isn’t helping things this morning (my every breath is echoing in my skull and thus driving me nuts).  I just want to go home and go back to bed until dance rehearsal.

Sorry to be a whiney complainer, but anything else I try to write today leaves me staring at the screen with my hands sliding off the keys for the futility of it all.  You’re lucky I’d already written the childhood stories so something remotely entertaining could happen this week.  I figure the next few days will be a little light, so hopefully this will serve as an apology and an explanation.  In the meantime, please excuse me while I stare into space in an NSAID pain-reliever fog waiting for the day to end…

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