Another day, another week has gone by.  It all started on Thursday.  The extreme exhaustion.  A sign.  A scary sign that perhaps a migraine tornado is on its way over to storm my head once more.  Only I found myself waiting for it to come on Friday.  Nothing came.  Just the slurring of words.  The stammer in my voice.  The uncertainty.  And the dreaded drowsiness of what could become a potentially crippling blow to the head.

… Then four am Saturday morning..    ‘Oh no… not that pain again.’

The pain that feels so much like a knife being lodged into your brain.  Or wait perhaps a bowling ball rolling around your head unreservedly.  Just bouncing against the skull, as I sit with my head in my hands.  Hoping, praying, seeking the Lord that this will not turn into a full blown attack.

People come to lay hands on me and pray that the migraine may lift. But the migraine stubbornly stays put.  With the brake on.  Not moving to some other poor sufferer of this crazy neurological disease that wrecks havoc on your plans, on your emotions.  Just wrecks simply everything.  The wretched migraine has no concern for the deep suffering it causes.

The silent tears drop. And drop. And drop.

I collapse into a fetus ball and try to sleep the pain away.  Waking up in fit-fulls with the attack at its fiercest.  Minute by minute the nausea worsens.  Skin ghostly pale. Sleep a welcome relief.  Temporarily forgetting the pain.  But waking up to it with a vengeance. Nausea. Stumbling to the toilet.  Vomit spewed into the toilet bowl.  Temporary relief created.  Nausea temporarily gone.   But the medication does not take the sting of the pain away.  It stays put.  It grips me into a paralysing fear.  What if it happens again? Trapped in the endless cycle of deep anguished pain. Incomprehensible pain.  Pain needless pain.  Wreck-less pain.

Time non-existent. Dozing in and out of consciousness.  Relief temporarily approaches after a hot bath. Only to fall asleep again.  Then hungry.  Eat something only this time the migraine tornado turns into a migraine hurricane.  Ten times worse than it was in the morning. The day has no meaning.  The day does not make sense.  It is just an empty day of nothingness.

Evening approaches slowly. Head seems to clear a little.  Sleep comes once more.  Dawn arrives and the wretched migraine still sits on my front porch.  Having a laugh with its neighbour. As the knife pierces deep into my skull.  Will I ever get a welcome relief from this pain?  Or will it be accompanying me wherever I go?

More people praying with their hands on my head as I try to combat the storm in my head.  The misfiring of nuclear weapons inside my head.  Only to find that it doesn’t really ease.  Not till dusk arrives, where a welcome relief appears.

Though the worst of the migraine is over – I am still struggling with the migraine hangover.  Too much sensory stimuli causes a headache.  Though not like the migraine hurricane.  Just the residue of what has been.

The fear of it happening again.  The paralysing fear sits heavily on my chest.  I don’t want to be a nuisance to anyone.  But I feel a nuisance.  I feel embarrassed for feeling so sick recently.  It takes a long time to recover from.  Battling different emotions.  Incompetence. Shame. Regret. Depression. Sadness. Nuisance. Annoyance. Frustration. Anger. Depression, and more depression.  Fragility.  Vulnerability. Forgetfulness.

Please no more migraine blitzes here.  Please just leave me.  Don’t come back. I can’t cope with them anymore.  They steal my life. They steal my days.  They take away the plans I make.  They put me into the pit of unconscious sleep.  A sleep I dread to wake up from.  For will the migraine still sit stubbornly on my front porch when I wake?