Small Town Migraine

The thing about well-controlled disease is that when it breaks out of its chemical prison, it takes you by surprise.

I completely understand people who stop taking their anti-psychotic meds, or their diabetes meds, or whatever: I’m fine now. Why do I have to take anything? It’s so easy to forget how dependent we are on the drugs that are normalizing us, and nobody likes to need pills to feel normal, because normal feels normal, so that must be the default. Right?

When it’s not raining, the roof don’t leak.

But I didn’t stop taking anything, so WTF.

As vestibular migraine disease becomes better understood, it’s also becoming the new “you must have this” illness. But here’s the thing: Lots of us do have it. It’s just that it’s usually suffered by women, so have we tried not being fat, or female, or, you know, eating?

The neurologist who figured out what was wrong with me (OK, one of the things wrong with me) six or seven years ago was the fifth neurologist I’d seen. I’d fired the rest of them due to their arrogant incompetence.

“How do you know that chocolate isn’t causing your headaches if you won’t stop eating it? You say you’ve quit caffeine, but is three months really enough to tell? Have you tried not eating onions and chicken?”

I could spew a fair rant about neurologists in general: They are possibly the most useless specialty in medicine, but if you have a brain bleed, you really need one of the fuckers. Other than that, everything is theory. As far as I can tell, the difference between a neurologist and a faith healer is Gabapentin.

That it’s taken so many decades for these medical professionals to understand the very basics of science—correlation is not causation—makes their high-and-mightiness a giggle, except for the shit they’ve put us through.

Don’t let RFK Jr see this

These are only some of the things that a brain does to a system/body during migraine

What? People experiencing migraines have food cravings"? Like… eating chocolate?

Sigh.

But the good news is that migraine is becoming better understood.

Why am I bringing this up, you may wonder?¹

Because in the last three weeks I’ve had two serious migraines, and they’ve taken a couple of days, or three, to resolve.

But I’m living in a small town now, and that makes them a lot less scary.

My particular flavor of migraine no longer includes a terrible headache, for the most part, because of the drug cocktail I’m on. Instead, the first thing that happens is what looks like mottled light fluttering through leaves.

Ruh-roh.

Within a second or two, I break out in a thick, gross, heavy sweat. I can’t see very well, and then my legs start to give out. My autocorrect just changed “vasovagal” to “basic bagel,” and so that’s what it’ll be from now on. A basic bagel episode.

The last two episodes I was out walking Alice. With one, I was on the phone with a friend, and she stayed on with me til I got home. I walked, talked to her, and sat every half-block or so until I made it in the door.

With these episodes, I have no choice but to sleep. It’s not passing out - I’m aware that I’m lying down, and of what I need to do. But I am literally not able to stay awake. And this non-napper will then be out for a good two hours.

In the city, if I didn’t make it home it’d be a disaster. It’s not so much the “who’s the lady passed out on the lawn, mommy?” as it is about Alice. She has a tag, she’s chipped, but her nose would lead her away for minutes until she noticed that I’d let go of the leash, and who knows where she’d end up even if she noticed?

But small town living is different. Plenty of people don’t know who I am here, but they all seem to know Alice.

“Hi Alice.”
“Hey Alice!”
“Alice!!!”

The sound of our many daily walks.

If I fell, if I didn’t make it home, soon someone who knows me would see what was going on, because we’re all out and about. The traffic is slower, so she might well avoid being hit by a car. If someone found Alice wandering, leash attached or not, they’d know where to bring her.

I had a good meeting with my excellent doctor yesterday, and we’ll figure out what to do to stop these things from escaping their medicated jail. In the meantime I had not one, but two massages, yesterday and today, which involved… touching me. Shudder. But it did help, so there’s that. Plus the guy and I talked about everything from canning vegetables and fruit to people we know in common to Portugal vs Spain, so while only one of us was working, both of us were entertained.

1. I bet you’re not actually wondering