Imagine you are a young, blond,
slim, attractive, popular, funny, rich, normal woman. You are sitting on the
train on your way home from a long day’s work modeling at Vogue. Out of nowhere
you suddenly start to smell something very strange, like rotting egg
sandwiches. In fact this smell makes you feel quite sick. And will the man
sitting next to you please turn down his f’ing Ipod nano! Why has he suddenly
turned it up so loud that it’s as if Madonna herself is screaming in your ear
holding a megaphone with her scary biceps? You are so busy focusing on the sick
egg smell, and the fact that all the noises in the train seem strangely
amplified, that you do not notice the large mean man in the black cloak sweep
up behind you and viciously ram a dagger into the back of your skull! Oh dear.
And then Mr Evil Cloak Man just runs away leaving his massive dagger in the
back of your skull. Obviously this starts to hurt a little. Then, his malicious
accomplice, the well known torturer Midget Man, jumps up and rams a steel vice
around your head and starts tightening it. The dagger was bad enough Midget
Man, is this really necessary? He nods and turns the vice one more notch. Your
head is literally being crushed, and as typical on public transport, no one is
moving a finger to help you. Your eyeball may start bleeding at this point, in
fact it might be about to pop out, so could someone please switch the lights
off and call your Mum?
Ladies and gentleman, I have just
described in a metaphorical, alliterative and hopefully amusing manner, how my
migraines feel. This is all true; except that I am not a model at Vogue.
Yes, this is going to be a series
of monologues about migraines. But don’t stop reading. It’s going to be deeply
moving but also terribly funny. Maybe educational. Maybe there will be songs.
In an ideal world these monologues would be performed by famous actresses on
stages across the globe, à la The Vagina
Monologues, whose title I have
borrowed (thank you Eve Ensler for your permission which you have not actually
granted but I’m sure you would, as I also have a vagina). In my dream world
these monologues would also be part of a hugely successful
sitcom/docudrama I’ve written on Chanel 4, or NBC, that catapults my burgeoning
writing career into the stratosphere. Thus my years of pain and plight lead to,
and amount to… something.
Pointless pain.
And this brings me to, perhaps,
one of the most annoying things about migraine. It is a totally pointless pain.
See footnote at bottom*. Normally pain is the body's response to an incident.
For example, a little child accidentally cuts off his little finger trying to
be helpful whilst he cuts up carrots for his mother. He is so focused on carrot
chopping he may not notice he has cut off his finger (this is vaguely based on
a true story I heard once when I was 7.) But thank God for the body's natural
pain response that alerts him to the fact that something pretty major has just
gone wrong and needs medical attention. Said little helpful boy will wail, his
mother will sweep him and bloody finger top up, take them to the emergency room
where they will be fixed and the pain relieved. Not so with migraine.
There is no accidental dagger cut
that causes migraine pain. There is no brain tumor that causes the pain of
migraine. There is no sinus blockage that causes migraine. There is no…. you
get the point. And I know this will sound mighty odd but I have actually wished
- dare I say - kind of tried to make a deal with God once, that I had a benign
brain tumour, as this would account for the totally pointless pain I was
experiencing, and would help people other than my Mum believe how debilitating
this is; and then I could have an operation and never be in pain again. But
with a migraine you are in total agony for up to 72 hours (on a bad day) and at
the end of it you have nothing to show for what you have been through. No arm
in plaster for your friends to sign, no cool operation scar, nothing. It has
been a wasted, pointless, 72 hours of your life that you can not have back.
Sadly, migraine is a complex brain malfunction that even top neurologists and
scientists around the world can not fully explain. Luckily, migraine is not
lethal (though those who've had severely acute attacks have, at times, wished
otherwise), but this means it hasn’t - thus far - received the research funding
it deserves. Obviously this blog will change that overnight.
I have had migraines (single or
plural, capital letter or not, I don’t know?) since I was 18. I’m now 31,
though if you have a cute, financially successful, tall, handsome son you can
tell him I’m 26. On these pages I will chronicle my journey with migraine over the next year. Join
me.
Please see the handy links page
for more medical info and for places to go for help if you get migraine. P.S.
Please seek help if you have persistent headaches of migraines. Don't be
‘British’ and suffer in silence. It's just stupid to suffer in silence. If your
G.P. is not helpful, get another one, or get thee to a migraine clinic. Now.
Go.
*Footnote: At the
time of printing this information was correct. As far as I know there is no
known cure for migraine. And as several junior doctors and G.P.’s have
reluctantly informed me “Um, Victoria, I think you know way more about Migraine
than I do”, so if there was a cure I think I would know about it. Also, if you
think it’s scary that I could know more than your G.P. about migraine you’re
right, it is scary and it shouldn’t be that way. But I will be dealing with the
medical world and my many weird, varied and freaky experiences with them at
another point, obviously in an amusing and heartfelt manner.
Victoria Saxton
Formerly New
York, now reluctantly back in London.
I'm pretty sure I saw that midget on the Picadilly line one day. Carrying around his little head-shaped vice. Fortunately that day, it looked like he couldn't find you.
ReplyDeleteIf I see him again, I'll kick and kick hard.
Since we (admittedly quite vaguely) know each other, perhaps you won't think I'm a total dick if I point out the typo of "bodies" - should be "body's". 2x.
ReplyDeleteOther than that, congratulations on starting a blog, encouragements, felicitations, well-wishes etc.
One of the things you're missing in the initial description is being aware of the cloaked and midget b*ds constantly. Lurking in the corner.
ReplyDeleteI've spent the last few years on pizotifen and it had really reduced my frequency. However, a sudden increase, changed appearance (moved to the left side of my head and my zigzag aura turned into a Tim Burtonesque spiral) and had some lovely kidney stones, so I've recently been moved onto Topamax, which led me here. Luckily, I've got a new sympathetic Dr, who seems to want to help.
Pizotifen left me moodier than teenage gothish me, but it did seem to at least remove the, shall we say, afterglow, but... still was losing days at a time from work, which was leaving me more stressed... bah.
Currently day 3 in the Topamax house for me, and no side effects yet.
I'm hoping for weightloss... BRING ME THE WEIGHTLOSS!!!! most of the migraines stuffs have left me wanting to eat a horse, which is ironic as the moment they change me to a medication that has the opposite effect I can finally get my hands on some horse!
Off to read through the rest of your entries.
Also, check out Invader Zim, I think you'll appreciate the humour.
Hey! Welcome! Fingers crossed you don't get any of the nasty Topamax side effects, I was really lucky and missed out the worst - which as I'm sure you know include Kidney Stones!? Maybe as you've already had them they wont strike again?? I'm doing really well on it now so my fingers are firmly crossed for you. I'll also check out Invader Zim, never heard of that before!
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