When Headaches Become Migraines
See yourself in my story
To see Part 1: Memoirs of a Migraine Victim, click here.
- PART 2 -
Flushing the toilet, I grabbed my briefcase and threw my President’s Choice Granola bar into it. I would have to eat later. There was no way it would stay down anyway. I was always rushing to stay on time and was very proud of the fact that I could always squeeze more in an hour than most people even attempt. But stopping to throw up every morning wasn’t a scheduled stop for me, even though it happened every day.
I would start the day, optimistic that day would be different. However, the more I rushed, the more I felt the vice grip tighten around my head and then, predictably, as soon as my lungs breathed in the garage air, I had to turn around and run to the bathroom to throw up. More accurately, to dry-heave. Expediting the process, I had learned not to risk eating before work. On the second run to the garage, my husband would mechanically hand me my travel mug steaming with coffee. It was sweet of him to ensure I didn’t forget it, but the little girl inside me wished he would run to my side, rub my back as I faced the toilet and say, “I am so sorry you are going through this.” Instead, I figured he was criticising me in silence, thinking I was an exaggerative hypochondriac seeking attention.
I had only a short number of miles to drive from Burlington to Oakville for work but the short commute was stressful due to bumper to bumper traffic at that time to day. What took me 12 minutes, on evenings when I had to return to school for Parent Interview nights, translated to more than 25 minutes in the morning. For a while, I added more stress to my life, experimenting with other routes, hoping to shave even a minute or two from the trek. After a while, I resigned to the fact that no secret backroads existed.
Upon arrival at school, I played parking roulette. There was never enough parking spaces for both teachers and students. The parents who elected to drive their ‘walk-to’ students because, who knew, teenagers always sleep in, added to the congestion. Entering the school, I was always met with a bombardment of students and teachers asking me their pressing questions. I often wished I could take an underground tunnel straight to my office before having to face the demanding crowds.
Most days, I didn’t get around to eating the breakfast-granola bar stashed in my bag and I usually inhaled some supper leftovers for lunch while eating in front of my computer. I had to direct play rehearsal after school so any extra lesson prep time was sacred. It was rare to get to the staffroom lunch table and even more rare to get to leave the building during lunch but one day, two of my best-friend colleagues invited me to join them for lunch at a neighbouring cafe. I enjoyed their company and was looking forward to the break, knowing they would get me laughing. Laughing would take my mind off my headache and hopefully bring me perspective again. The conversation started out light, grumbling about the latest Ministry of Education initiatives and chuckling at the dramatics associated with teenagers. Then the conversation shifted and I started to feel targeted.
“So... how have you been lately, Kelly.”
“Fine, just really busy. Directing a fall theatre production is always stressful but being a relatively new department Head feels overwhelming at times. I am sure it will get easier.”
“How are you taking care of yourself?”
“Uhh, I don’t know. I guess I just remind myself that the play is almost over and things will be better then.”
“Are you eating?”
“Of course.” I looked down at the Panini I ordered and it was mostly untouched.
“We have noticed you have lost a lot of weight lately”.
I had. My consistently 125 pound frame was reduced to about 105.
“Really? It’s probably just this outfit, I don’t usually wear such fitted clothes.”
I felt embarrassed with the line of questioning. Both friends were members of our Guidance department and I recognized the pattern. These were the questions you asked of anorexics.
The looks they gave me told me they didn’t believe me for a second. I felt I needed to defend.
“Honestly guys. I am fine. I always lose weight when a show is running and I have been having a lot of headaches lately. When I have a headache, I am so nauseated that I don’t feel like eating.”
They continued to bombard me with questions. I felt more and more uncomfortable but I also knew it was their dedicated friendship that gave them the courage to insist upon answers. They were poking at what I was already scared about but was ignoring.
It was time to cave. It was time to see the doctor.
The conversation with the Doctor was simple and went like this:
“I have had this headache for months. It won’t go away”.
“You have a migraine.”
“No, I don’t. I don’t get migraines.”
“You do now.”
Read part 3: Life’s a ?#*%& … with Migraines
ADDENDUM:
Notice I referenced my granola bar for breakfast a couple times in the above post. It was one of my problems! It was a processed, store bought product that contained some preservatives that were triggers for my migraines. I soon discovered that it was far better for me to make my own granola bars from scratch to avoid migraines. I can then control what goes in them! Preservatives are often a trigger for migraine sufferers. There are lots of reasons to make homemade food whenever possible for a multitude of health reasons. I make one pan on Sunday night and it lasts me the week.
None of the information provided in this post is intended to be substituted for the help and advice of medical professionals. I am hoping that by sharing my observations and lifestyle habits, others will be inspired to scaffold from my ideas to claiming changes that work for them. Every “body” is different.
