The Attack of the Migraine
It starts slowly. Everything is getting louder. I turn the volume down on the show I am watching, eventually realizing that it's now set for a 10 when it's usually around a 54. Then I begin to notice other things. The car rumbling in the parking lot two blocks away. Or the slow tick of the water heater in our apartment. Neither are controllable and both are slowly causing my head to spin.
It has been three months since I have taken any doctor prescribed medication. I don't want to change that. So I run the hottest water I can get and full the tub with a mixture of essential oils and epsom salt. With a glass of wine in hand, the lights off and a single candle flickering I sink into the glorious heat.
It lasts for a glorious 5 minutes before something creaks and my vision goes black.
I crawl out and roll into my yoga mat in the next room. Without drying myself off, I use my yoga towel to cover the mat and a winter blanket envelopes me as I stretch myself into shavasana. Kevin puts on my mediation music and I drift in and out for the rest after the afternoon and into the early morning.
My alarm spends the next hour going off with random intervals of snooze button silence. At some point I managed to crawl into bed. I jolt up when my Mario coin goes off and realize I am late. With head spinning I call my friend to apologize and I give into the bliss of prescription drugs, two little pills that take four hours to work. I spend the day hiding in the dark. All the blinds are closed and an electric blanket is resting on my back. By two pm I feel alive enough to eat again.
I spend the rest of the afternoon reflecting on how my broken promise has made me feel and what I can do to fix it. I am thankful for the fact that I am not working and that while this migraine did manage to take 24 hours of my life it didn't upset my paycheck, like it has in the past. I am also thankful that it's been three months. Three months of blissful ignorance.