When I was younger, I loved Peanuts. Not the snack, the cartoon. Charlie Brown had a beagle and so did I. Snoopy made me laugh. There were posters with Snoopy about "Happiness is a warm puppy". Even now, if you Google Snoopy and the word happiness, you get a bunch of variations on that idea.
Sometimes I don't think I know how to be happy. I laugh sometimes. I enjoy moments. But I don't really recall what it feels like to be happy.
Right now, I just feel like crawling in bed and staying there. I don't want to be touched. I don't want to talk to anyone. I don't want to see anyone.
I kinda want a good cry. But I don't think the tears will come. Just more heavy sighs.
I came close to happy last night. "Brown-eyed Girl" by Van Morrison was on the radio. I love that song. It's uplifting in a way. I had a living room dance party while it played. Dancing makes me feel good. Not belly dancing right now, but just care free like I don't give a damn kind of dancing. Just me and the song without concern or worry. That freedom I think makes me happy.
But the song is over. It's another day. I feel gross really. I don't feel pretty. I don't feel energetic. I feel sad. I feel like shutting out everything and just snuggling up to one of our cats. I don't think happiness is a purring cat, but it certainly makes me less unhappy. I find it soothing at any rate.
Tomorrow is another month. Another month to try again. Another month to find something to bring myself back. Another month to maybe try new methods; new supplements; new activities; new attempts at old successes.
My new injections of Ajovy are working. My migraines are under control. I have broken through that barrier. Why do I still feel the oppression on my shoulders? Why is my back hunched over? Why can I name it for what it is, yet still feel its weight pulling me closer to earth rather than lightening me toward the air?
I should get dressed and go for a walk. Let the breeze brush my face. Smell the earthiness of spring. Hear the sparrows, jays, and robins. See the flowers starting to burst through. It's a lot of work though. Getting dressed. Going out the door. Walking aimlessly through the neighborhood. So much easier just to stay here in my robe and cuddle a cat.
After all, the new month starts tomorrow. Not today.
Sunday, March 31, 2019
Sunday, March 17, 2019
Could This Be It?
Friday was the Ides of March. When the 15th of a month rolls around, I usually scramble to the phone to refill my Zomig.
But this time, I didn't. I didn't even check the refill date until the day after. Sure enough, the official "you can refill this now" date was the 15th as usual. Want to know how many triptans I had left?
3. I have 3 left from my last refill.
To be clear, February was a particularly nasty month of migraine. It's of course Anniversary Month around here. More than our share of grief in that shortest month. Then the weather patterns kept swinging hard from warmish to below freezing and back again. We had storms over and over and over. I truly hated checking the weather report because it just looked like pain on my screen. I had come home on Valentine's Day with a migraine. I had taken two already that week and really didn't want to take more lest I be punished by the dreaded medication overuse gods.
After refilling my script and getting 6 more shiny pills in the unforgiving blister pack of frustration, we had some hellacious extreme weather.
I tried. I really tried not to take more than 2 that week. When your insurance limits how many you can have, you must ration your triptans, especially when insurance knocks you from 9 to 6 per month without warning or explanation.
But I caved. I took three in the week following the refill because every time I thought the agony was gone, it came raging back. I'd missed 2.5 days of work. It was a terrible month, and I was desperate.
Then, I got my first CGRP injection. I went with Ajovy.
The week after the injection, I noticed that the pain would come. But then it would go. It was rarely overwhelming pain. Sometimes the pain was clearly coming from my sore neck, so I took Tylenol. And that was enough.
Tylenol hasn't been enough for years.
I checked my migraine app and it confirmed that my pain and migraine days were both considerably less than the two weeks prior to the injection.
Is it truly possible that I've finally found that "Hot New Thing" that puts a stop to this train wreck?
No more elimination diets. No more eyeing food with trepidation. No more dread when I look at the weather forecast. No more prepping every night before leaving work just in case I need a sub. No more pain 18 of 30 days stolen. Is it really as easy as one injection a month?
I still have the color blobs, occasional sparkles, blurred spots, wiggly spots, and vertigo mind you. But I had those first before the pain.
Pain. No more pain. It's a kind of surreal idea. Almost disquieting. There's that unease about allowing myself to enjoy this only to have it ripped away. Where is that proverbial shoe and when will it drop?
I guess I should be optimistic, but cautious as well. After all, the Lamictal took away my pain for a month, but then it came back. I guess I'll know more when April 15th rolls around. Will I still have 3 triptans? Will they be the same 3 from this month?
Who knows? But spring starts this week. Spring is renewal and new life. A break in the bleak harshness that is winter here. I keep trying to call the CGRP Avjoy. Maybe there's a reason for that. It's a little injection of joy just in time for spring.
But this time, I didn't. I didn't even check the refill date until the day after. Sure enough, the official "you can refill this now" date was the 15th as usual. Want to know how many triptans I had left?
3. I have 3 left from my last refill.
To be clear, February was a particularly nasty month of migraine. It's of course Anniversary Month around here. More than our share of grief in that shortest month. Then the weather patterns kept swinging hard from warmish to below freezing and back again. We had storms over and over and over. I truly hated checking the weather report because it just looked like pain on my screen. I had come home on Valentine's Day with a migraine. I had taken two already that week and really didn't want to take more lest I be punished by the dreaded medication overuse gods.
After refilling my script and getting 6 more shiny pills in the unforgiving blister pack of frustration, we had some hellacious extreme weather.
I tried. I really tried not to take more than 2 that week. When your insurance limits how many you can have, you must ration your triptans, especially when insurance knocks you from 9 to 6 per month without warning or explanation.
But I caved. I took three in the week following the refill because every time I thought the agony was gone, it came raging back. I'd missed 2.5 days of work. It was a terrible month, and I was desperate.
Then, I got my first CGRP injection. I went with Ajovy.
The week after the injection, I noticed that the pain would come. But then it would go. It was rarely overwhelming pain. Sometimes the pain was clearly coming from my sore neck, so I took Tylenol. And that was enough.
Tylenol hasn't been enough for years.
I checked my migraine app and it confirmed that my pain and migraine days were both considerably less than the two weeks prior to the injection.
Is it truly possible that I've finally found that "Hot New Thing" that puts a stop to this train wreck?
No more elimination diets. No more eyeing food with trepidation. No more dread when I look at the weather forecast. No more prepping every night before leaving work just in case I need a sub. No more pain 18 of 30 days stolen. Is it really as easy as one injection a month?
I still have the color blobs, occasional sparkles, blurred spots, wiggly spots, and vertigo mind you. But I had those first before the pain.
Pain. No more pain. It's a kind of surreal idea. Almost disquieting. There's that unease about allowing myself to enjoy this only to have it ripped away. Where is that proverbial shoe and when will it drop?
I guess I should be optimistic, but cautious as well. After all, the Lamictal took away my pain for a month, but then it came back. I guess I'll know more when April 15th rolls around. Will I still have 3 triptans? Will they be the same 3 from this month?
Who knows? But spring starts this week. Spring is renewal and new life. A break in the bleak harshness that is winter here. I keep trying to call the CGRP Avjoy. Maybe there's a reason for that. It's a little injection of joy just in time for spring.
Sunday, March 10, 2019
Fighter
I refuse to let it own me I refuse to lose myself I refuse to linger in self-pity I will not let it stop me.
Most of us have at one time or another said these and other similar statements to ourselves.
We bear it. We push it. We plan it. We adjust to it.
We tolerate.
We manage.
We endure.
We do so many things in order to simply survive.
You don't see it.
We don't always get to thrive.
You don't feel it.
We sometimes lose our drive.
You don't hear it.
But then we wake up. Get ourselves ready for another day. And we fight again.
Most of us have at one time or another said these and other similar statements to ourselves.
We negotiate. We insist. We demand.
We bear it. We push it. We plan it. We adjust to it.
We tolerate.
We manage.
We endure.
We hide.
We do so many things in order to simply survive.
You don't see it.
We don't always get to thrive.
You don't feel it.
We sometimes lose our drive.
You don't hear it.
We rest.
We retreat.
We refresh.
And eventually we sleep.
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