Migraines 1 – Half a head is better than none

I had a migraine yesterday.

I’ve not had a migraine for two months, though I had a spate of them day after day at the end of March because of some new medication I was on. Not having migraines is wonderful, and the horse pills that I’ve been prescribed to take at the onset of a migraine have been life-transforming. I’d kinda forgotten how intrusive they are.

I had a headache across my eyes yesterday and around the back of my skull, but it wasn’t the familiar half-head (hemi-cranium) of the migraine, so I took a couple of ibuprofen and hoped for the best. A few hours later I had to admit that although the headache didn’t feel familiar, the sense of nausea and distance did, and I realised that if we didn’t get in the car and go to Morrisons right now we’d be foodless and milkless until some unpredicted time on Sunday.

The one I spend my weekends with did the shopping while I stood in the carpark wondering if I could face going to the loos in Morrisons to throw up and realising that I Could Hear Every Sound With Crystal Clarity. The sonophobia is the worst thing about having migraines in a public space. Throwing up on the street is as nothing compared with losing one’s ability to filter out extraneous noise.

When he’d finished doing the shopping we set off for home, only a couple of miles, but I’d made sure I’d located an old carrier bag just in case. About half way there I pulled over, got out the bag and sat in the driver’s seat throwing up. Breakfast isn’t improved by being seen again at six in the evening. All the while, there he was, sitting patiently in the passenger’s seat, reading a magazine. I didn’t dare laugh. Choking on breakfast would only have caused annoying and unnecessary delays.

We got home. I went to bed with the bin from the bathroom. He spent the evening on-line. We missed Doctor Who. I slept. Today I am in that washed out space I occupy after a migraine. They feel wonderful after the event. But it’ll be a long time before I forget the sheer Englishness of parking up at the side of the road, one person vomiting and the other person reading a magazine.

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s