You wish people would stop reacting to the patch on your forehead and asking “what happened?”
Because you would rather not talk and invite another searing flash of pain across your temple
You will kill someone before you willingly move. Because with every movement it feels like the entire insides of your head – brain, floating matter, connective tissue and nerves all move to that side of the head. And back when you straighten again. And then throb strongly to protest.
All you want is a dark quiet room. Because the migraine has made you super sensitive to light in every form (photophobia) and noises and sounds (phonophobia) You wish someone would turn off the lights! Never mind that that’s the day when you have the extra long connection at the airport. (Which for some reason they love to keep super brightly lit) or the day you are stuck in slow moving traffic and the devil has unleashed a cult of glare wielding SUV drivers to keep blinding you. That ambulance siren approaching makes you think that you hope that person survives. But also that they seem determined to take you with them.
Your body is now in healing/repair mode and does not care if you are in public. For one it does not want to digest anything- so anything in that system finds its way out. You are either sitting on the porcelain throne or hunched up over it You are there vomiting like a drunk fool, only you didn’t enjoy the drink!
It feels like you are in a storm. The storm in your body. It builds momentum, then peaks. You feel like it will never end. You writhe around, then realize that that doesn’t help. So you exhale and stop. You try to cry but there are no tears. Also your head is currently not interested in the mechanics of crying. You feel agitated and restless. Almost everything irritates you as your ability to rationalize is severely compromised. It literally hurts to think.
You feel emotionally weak. You want the one you love to come and hold you and lay with you and say nothing. Just weather this storm with you. But the migraines never seem to happen when he is nearby. Which could be a paradox because could it be that when he is there you don’t get them?
You pray for sleep.
Later, you wake up and find that the worst is over. The migraine has broken. This does not mean that the pain is gone, yet. It means that now you can open your eyes without the daggers stabbing you. That you can talk. Maybe now you can digest something. But you still feel like you were run over by an old city council lorry that then dragged you with it for a few hundred meters. In this lull after the storm, the slightest thing could trigger a new migraine. So best take it really easy.
Then you wake up later and you are hungry! You have weathered the storm! Where’s that guy in charge of handing out S’s for chests because you might as well be superman (or superwoman)? All is well again.
©2016 Mugs Gitau