Tracy and I took the kids to the Royal Gorge today. We took the gondola across the gorge, walked the bridge, and rode the carousel. Marlena and Caitlin, soon to be heading to high school, were given a special gift for continuation:
I am trying not to feel as though the weather is out to get me. Each day I wake up powerless to improve my migraine because another pressure system is messing with my head. Literally.
I am trying to find positive things about the rain. I remember how much we usually need water this time of year, I sit in the garden and watch my plants soak up the rain, I listen to the birds splashing in puddles. I try not to hate the rain. Sometimes I even succeed.
I even walk in it, to and from the office. It’s an attempt to combine going to work with waking up and getting exercise. It’s not the easiest thing to start but the great thing about walking is that once you begin all you have to do is put one foot in front of the other until you finish. In the past few days I have let my fancy fly as I plod along to work one block at a time. I have made up non-profit ideas, imagined what I will do for my 40th birthday, and more. It’s a quiet reflective time for me. Best of all, I feel better when I am walking. Slightly. Until I stop. I suppose I could just live life on a treadmill. Can a person sleepwalk intentionally?
Until the weather breaks and the sun comes out I will do my best to ignore the sense of pressure in my head. In the meantime I long for dry, hot days without a cloud in the sky.
Not so very long ago in a medical facility not terribly far away there worked a series of dedicated doctors.
These doctors, having tried all sensible treatments to no avail, felt the way to cure a head that pounded and ached for no discernible reason was to give it a reason.
One doctor injected prilocaine into the tender trigger points of his patient’s temples and jaw. The next day the patient discovered that yes, her temples and jaw could hurt more.
One doctor injected steroids into the vertebrae in her neck, causing stiffness and soreness and throbbing and perhaps even temporarily fusing the neck into an immovable column of muscular misery.
Between them, they insured she could not sleep on her left side, her right side, her stomach, or her back. All positions met with angrily protesting head parts.
The doctors assured her the discomfort would pass in a couple of days and long term relief could occur but the patient learned a valuable late night lesson as a result of the injection site soreness.
Make sure you leave one position untouched for sleeping! There are no pillows soft enough to make your head forget a bunch of doctors turned it into a pin cushion.
So the patient, bereft of rest, decided to pen a poorly written fairy tale blog post in lieu of learning to sleep standing up.
Everything is spinning and I can’t keep anything down.
It’s awful. I don’t want to eat, I don’t want to drink. I can’t close my eyes, I can’t keep them open.
I spend my time caught between trying to keep some crackers down and violently throwing them up.
It started with the latest storm. This awful internal movement in my head, this certainty in my body that I am floating on the wreckage from a ship. Bobbing up and down in the ocean, no solid land anywhere near me.
The room warps and wends in front of my eyes.
…there would be no butterflies.
Marlena got ready for 8th grade prom today. My lovely girl, usually too tom-boyish and busy to bother with make-up and hairstyles, emerged dressed for the dance in the guise of a stunning young woman.
The theme for the dance was Black and White, so she and I found a darling dress that fit her to a “T” and spent an hour in the bathroom with makeup and a straightening iron. Of course, afterwards we had to take some pictures:
I am happy she left for the dance confident and thrilled with her appearance, and I am pleased I was able to help put that confident smile on her face, but a small part of me wept a little as the girl riding on my dad’s shoulders here:
turned into the young woman pictured here:
It’s 2:20 a.m. and I am awake.
It would seem the medication I am on makes sleeping an impossibility. I lie in bed, every night, waiting to sleep. I plan out how to upcycle old furniture into new patio furniture. I plot out story devices. I think about plants.
I close my eyes and there is a flashing light behind them.
I cannot sleep.
So, I thought tonight I would update y’all instead.
When I left the hospital I had three diagnoses. 1. Intractable migraine disorder. 2. Tibomandibular joint disorder (TMD) 3. Cervicogenic headache.
I have been to see the dentist about the TMD and it is not TMD. Instead I have tendonitis and arthritis in my jaw. Downside, chewing is bad. Upside, I have lost eight pounds this month. (I am all about the silver linings, like how my inability to catch Z’s has given me time to blog.)
I am not sure how to feel about having arthritic jaw bones but I am sure there is a “you talk too much” joke out there somewhere. I do know the massive doses of steroids I am on to lower the inflammation are probably contributing to the lack of sleep.
As for the cervicogenic headache, I have an appointment to go under sedation and have anesthesia injected into my C2 through C5 joints again. I should be doing this every month until we do a more permanent version involving radio frequencies. (Yep, really, I am not wearing a tinfoil hat here. At some point my C2-C5 nerves will be turned off with radio waves.)
So for now it’s all about managing the side effects of the medications and learning to live with my headaches.
I have gardened, walked, laughed and worked. I am not what I used to be but I am better than I was.
And now, I am going to read another book while I try to meet that elusive Sandman.