babble, story of my life

In Which Fatso Is Not Well

It shouldn’t be a shock to anybody when I say, “I’m not well.”

If I list my sickness, pains and illnesses, at the moment, it’d be quite a long list. I hurt all over. I’ve got my chronic pain and chronic mental disorders.

But right now, there’s one thing at the front of my mind.

Literally.

I’ve had this migraine/serious headache (it fluctuates between the two, and I can tell the difference between a headache and a migraine) for about three or four days now.

This, in itself, shouldn’t be a shock. I’ve been on Topamax and Almotriptan for my migraines for about two years now, because I used to have three migraines in a week, while I was working at The Topic, and I was going through Nurofen Plus like it was going out of fashion.

When I got to Scotland, I spoke to my Doctor about it, and he put me on medication, and it’s now something like two or three migraines a month, which is much more manageable.

But right now?

This migraine is horrendous. On Tuesday night, it left me shivering and shaking; nauseous. I was seconds away from vomiting, and only because I went and lay down in my darkened room, I didn’t.

I was the same tonight: cold and clammy and shivering and shaking and nauseous. I hadn’t actually eaten anything except a yoghurt with my medications, so while I was hugging the toilet bowl, I physically couldn’t vomit.

Now, when I say I can tell the difference between a headache and a migraine, let me tell you how: my migraines are specific. Sharp, throbbing pains, centered above my right or left eye. My headaches are more generalised: pain, all over my head.

Since Sunday or Monday, I’ve had this sharp, throbbing pain over my right eye – and tonight, over my left eye. I actually cancelled my Zumba class tonight, because the idea of walking to The Water Palace and doing my class and then walking back is just…

The thought of it makes me nauseous.

It’s annoying to me, because I didn’t want to miss any classes this year. It’d only be me second class for this Zumba class. And I’m missing it because of a headache?!

If you know me, and I mean really know me, you’ll know that I don’t truly complain about something until it’s serious. I didn’t complain about my mutant leg until it was painful enough that I couldn’t sleep for it.

I didn’t complain about my sciatic until I couldn’t lean over the sink and wash the dishes for it.

I didn’t complain about my headaches and migraines until I started getting them three times a week.

When I’m complaining about getting really bad migraines, I’m not talking about a bad headache. I’m talking about throbbing aching pain that’s making me miserable. It’s making me sleep for 12 or 14 hours a day.

I’ve got an appointment with my doctor on Wednesday. The list of things I’ve got to talk to him about is possibly in double digits.

I Am Not Well.

Let's get social:

4 thoughts on “In Which Fatso Is Not Well”

  1. I have a friend who described her migraines as being very similar to an ice-cream headache – one that just won't go away! I can't imagine how debilitating that must be. Have you been able to work out what is triggering them at all?

    1. The annoying thing is I can't figure out what the trigger is, if there is one at all. I don't really eat cheese, and I don't particularly get migraines when I do. I don't get 'em when I eat chocolate. I don't drink wine. I do tend to get withdrawal headaches when I abstain from caffeine from a while, but it's not migraine-worthy.

      The migraines? No idea. They just seem to like to come out and play every once in a while. My older sister's the same.

    1. Nope. Current list of medications are as follows: morphine, tramadol, diclofenac, gabapentin, metformin, almotriptan, topamax, cerazette, omeprazole, ventolin inhaler. I think that's everything. The first four are painkillers for my back; the next two, for my migraines; cerazette to control my periods; omeprazole to stop the acid reflux that everything else causes, and the inhaler for my asthma. I also have, at any given time, steroid creams for my mutant leg, and I have to wear a compression sock whenever I can.

      Basically, my body is breaking down piece-by-piece.

Comments are closed.