Migraine

I have two memories of migraines. Neither of them affected me directly, rather it was a friend and family member. I started to notice my friend Chad was not on the morning school bus, usually for a few days at a time. I was shy but observant and eventually asked about my friend's whereabouts. "He has migraines," a boy said. "Oh that's a headache," I thought to myself. "Chad baby."

My Aunt also had episodes. My mother too, but her sister's experiences I remember more vividly. She is a very quiet person, who could easily slip into the background of a raucous family gathering. When that was the case, often times it was because of a migraine. "Your aunt went to lie down upstairs," my grandmother would say. "Oh she gets to take a nap," I thought to myself. "Big baby."

Welp, last week I had my first migraine. Just Tried It Out cause I heard how much fun they were! And before I continue and forget, I want to apologize for my thoughts of apathy toward all migraine sufferers in years past. They suck.a.lot.

I was teaching my last class of the day, tutoring a 12 yr old girl, when I looked up toward the ceiling at my room's air conditioning unit. I caught a quick glimpse of the lights overhead and they stayed in my vision like staring at the sun too long. As they normally do I expected it to dissipate. Walking home I couldn't shake the hollowed out center of my vision, and I started to feel ill. By the time I got home the headaches had sunk in above and behind my eye sockets. Walking, seeing, talking, and hearing made everything worse. At this point Stephanie didn't know what was happening and I wanted to punch her every time she asked me a question.

I needed complete darkness and silence. I needed space. I needed an empty room in an empty house. I wanted this to stop. It was bad enough that work consumed my days, now it was creeping into my nights. I barely remember dinner and scarfing down two tacos under a dim, table lamp. Immediately I retreated to the bedroom and prayed for silence. When that did not work, I defied my logic and used my voice to ask Steph to search for remedies, cures, and potions. A long, hot shower later, the pain was subsiding and I had dozed off to sleep.

When I woke the next morning, my vision and head still felt off. Like a projector that's been bumped askew, I wanted nothing more than to be realigned. I tiptoed through the morning, knowing I had an 8 hour teaching day ahead of me. The thought of imminent and loud chaos was enough to put me back in I thought. However, I can safely say the migraine never returned and I hope it stays away. It made it's slow and debilitating point. I imagine the early stages of a python constricting your skull to be similar to a migraine. But maybe I'm just a big baby.

Migraine, check.