12 April 2001
I had to do something today that I haven't had to do for over 8 years. I had to phone my doctor and ask for a prescription for the injection form of the migraine medication Imigran (known as Imitrex on the other side of the pond).
I had to do this because the migraine that I woke up with was so severe that I actually threw up.
The last time I had a migraine that severe, it started in the October after my 16th birthday, and lasted until the March of the year after. Months in which the doctors did everything but give me this particular medication.
The reason? It was new and it was expensive (£88 for two pre-filled syringes, or 6 tablets) and so I suffered throught months of being dosed up with 8 (or something, I stopped counting) different types of painkiller, 5 different anti-depressant drugs (that never worked because, gosh, I wasn't depressed, just pissed off that I had a constant migraine), valium (which also didn't work - it actually made me more hyper), enduring a CAT scan and three sessions with a psychologist/psychiatrist which ended with me howling the above remark about four month headache and quacks that wouldn't bloody help and me walking out of the room saying I wasn't coming back because I was wasting my time and theirs.
Eventually, they gave in and prescribed Imigran. I can still remember vividly loading up that injector pen for the first time, and holding it against my thigh, looking at my watch, and saying to myself "I'll press the button when the second hand gets to 30.... 45... 60.... 10.... ".
It took me an hour to get up the courage to push that button, but finally, I did. It hurt like hell. I could feel the liquid burn as it spread, and then I started to feel like I was dissolving. It was the strangest feeling. I woke up my parents (who'd gone to sleep because they were bored waiting for me to get with the programme and push the damn button) and explained that I felt really icky, and they just suggested I go lie down for a bit.
I did, and slowly the feeling passed, and after half an hour, it was as if a cloud was lifted. My migraine was gone. For the first time in months, my head didn't hurt. For a split second, I wondered if I was dead, but then I realised that my leg probably wouldn't be itching if I were.
I've had migraines in the intervening period, but none of them were severe enough to warrant me requesting the new and improved injector kit. Until today.
I'm taking this as a fairly big warning sign that I need to slow down and stop pushing myself the way I have lately.
I just need to get to this meeting tomorrow, and get through it and I'm home free. I'm flying down to London on the 6:30 flight tomorrow (well, I suppose it's really today now) to spend four nights with D.
I can hardly wait. I badly need a hug.
Hello...erm I would really like to contact you or the person who posted "the wheel turns...." or anyone who has suffered the same as that or close.
I suffer with a constant migraine, I find it extremly hard to do normal things and speaking to people without my sunglasses on is a nightmare and then that makes me nervous and extremly anxious and its that I cannot bare and its that that stops me from going out.
I cannot focus at things and i see little coloured dots flicker like an untuned tv channel and in the dark its better but i can hardly see anything because of the dots are still there.
Its very hard to explain this feeling in a certain way but I try the best I can and I usually explain it to people that it feels like I am very drunk without having the drunk feeling in the head just in the eyes, please contact me anyone with ideas of what i can do to help myself...or if you been through the same and got passed it...or if you are still going through it and we can try and help each other!! my name is clare and I am 20 and here is my email - tinydancer666@hotmail.com
... the online home and (not very) alter(ed)-ego of Ann McMeekin, a recently freelance Web Accessibility Consultant.
... passionate about many things, most of which will turn up on this site at some time or other.
... contactable via email.
Design and content copyright 2000-2007 pixeldiva, except where noted.
Copyright of comments remains with the individual author.
All rights reserved.
Left comments