I mention that love of puzzles in an effort to justify my detached fascination with my own migraine headaches.
I began having the headaches in the spring of 1997, when I was commuting 90 minutes each way to work. I only had one or two during that job, near the end of its tenure, and they increased somewhat in frequency, in severity, and in dramatic symptoms, between 1998 and 2000. At this time I was commuting 55 minutes each way.
In the beginning I experienced only a mild “aura,” or warning sign that a headache was coming on. The effect was as if a Venetian blind were fluttering in the wind, in the corner of my right eye. The flutter was in the lower right edge of my vision, and was an entirely chiaroscuro effect.
I continued to have this mild warning sign for about 18 months. I distinctly remember where I was standing the day the effect went Technicolor. My entire field of vision was illuminated with a carnival of lights, not unlike the midway at the State Fair of my youth. The lights spin and move about, yet they are translucent so that I can see the actual items beyond them in my field of vision.
It was pretty difficult to drive home with the light show going on. Yet I knew if I did not get home, and get home fast, the headache that was soon to follow would make it even more difficult still.
They say an aura is a perfectly normal predecessor to the headache, as if the headache itself were a normal phenomenon. Some people smell a particular scent. Some people hear ringing, for example, or a whistle. Some people just get the headache. Little One gets tunnel-vision. And others, like me, see things.
Nowadays the aura appears like little gray translucent bubbles in my forward vision. After a few moments, colored prisms appear in my peripheral vision. The bubbles float to the top and replenish from the bottom, much like the bubbles in a glass of Co-Cola (I am from Alabama, don't forget.). Meanwhile, the prisms rotate and spin in my periphery.
Today I had all this going on as I drove home from Party City, where I had gone to pick up the paper goods for tonight’s reception for Band Honor Society inductees at the middle school.
This is when I decided to blog about my headaches. So, using my phone, I took a picture of the view, and I have superimposed my aura on it so you can see what it looks like. I only wish I could automate it for you so you could see the movement of the aura. This still picture is the best I can do.
In the beginning I had no clue as to what was happening. In 1998 I saw the doctor and subsequently went to a neurologist. I was given a prescription for migraine medication. The medication was not in the form of a pill or shot, but an inhalant. The packages were little rocket-shaped plastic things. I stuck one end in my nose and depressed the little plunger at the other end, while inhaling. The benefit of an inhalant was that it didn’t have to dissolve – it immediately went into my bloodstream.
The medication was satisfactory for about a year, until I began to have hangovers from the medication. I would have the aura, take the medication, and perform at work almost normally, but would have a vacant ache in the back of my head for 3 or 4 days. These hangovers became stronger and stronger until finally, I began to evaluate the headache when I would have an aura. Is it strong? Are the colors bright? If not, I would skip the medication and endure the headache, which usually lasted about 24 hours.
I cannot write about the headache without telling what one is really like. Sometimes, especially in the early days, it feels like a heavy, 2-penny nail is piercing my head. There is one point of entry and one point in the center of my brain where the “tip of the nail” is causing particular pain. At other times, the best way to describe it is as if it were a sharp ripping pain in my brain. Remember that burning, tearing feeling when you fell off your bike and your skin ripped on the pavement? That’s what it feels like, sort of, except in my brain.
When I have a migraine, I have a propensity to chew or rip my nails below the quick. I don’t know why. On a couple of occasions I have actually pulled my hair out. (Not much.) One time, I was screaming, pleading with my husband to take me to the ER. (I never did know why he didn’t.) He called my doctor’s group’s after-hours number, waited for the callback, and got permission to give me a second dose of medication.
I had a hysterectomy in 2003 and the regularity of the headaches has decreased. While I used to have one or two a month, at about the same interval, now I just seem to have them whenever. I have identified some things that trigger them. Aspartame is the biggest contributor for me. I have given it up entirely. It’s tricky – it is often included in things I would not think would have it. I truly wish manufacturers would be required to put “Contains aspartame” clearly on the front of a bottle. Until then, I will continue to screen the fine print. Traveling on an empty stomach can sometimes give me a migraine. A strobe effect is a major trigger for me. It can be an electronic strobe – or it can be sunshine behind trees flashing between the trunks as I zoom down the interstate. I have begun carrying an eyeshade on vacations so that I can block it out. NOTE: I only wear it if someone else is driving.
Here is where I get to the strangest phenomenon of all. Superstores give me a migraine.
I did not notice this until about 2 months ago we took an excursion to the nearest larger town to visit Super Target. I love Target and anticipate a trip as if it were really a big thing. As we crossed the parking lot, Little One chided me: “Now Nana, please don’t get a migraine.” “Do I usually get a migraine here?” I asked. She looked at me as if I were an idiot. (I get a lot of these looks from her lately.) “You ALWAYS get a migraine here.”
DH and I went to Ikea in November. As I entered the front door, kaboom. Circles in my eyes. Party City today. Boom.
This fascinates me. Is it the store size? My neighborhood grocery is a little larger than Party City, a little smaller than Target. Yet I don’t get a headache there. (Thank goodness!) Is it the driving? We drove to DC 2 weekends ago, 6.5 hours each way, without a headache.
At this point, I have decided there is something about the air pressure in a big box store that gives me a migraine. I relate this to the commonly-held theory that changes in barometric pressure triggers migraines. And, in fact, I and my migraine-suffering gf’s typically get one when a storm front is coming in.
It’s at this point that I have to talk about the detached observation of my own headaches. While they hurt, while they inconvenience me in terms of pursuing my schedule, they fascinate.
Take the aura, for example. Isn’t it wild that we experience different auras? It’s amazing to me! I have my own! Yes, I know we are all individuals – but stay with me here – (if you’ve made it this far, you must be in to the end, I guess) – as women we all seem to feel the same sensation when we have contractions! All of us seem to have the same sensation when we hit our thumbs with the hammer! Bump into the corner of the table. Break a leg. Get my drift? Yet, you can line up 5 friends who get migraines and we all have unique, and different, auras.
And the colored prisms? The day I went from b&w to Technicolor: what an amazing day! While one part of me was writhing in pain, the other was sitting back and observing: “Wow! Isn’t this fascinating?”
Not much is understood about migraines in general, although research people seem to be as fascinated by them as I am. I can only hope that one day they unlock the mystery.
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