As anyone who has ever had a migraine can tell you, those lucky ducks in the population that have never experienced such a mind blowing, stomach turning, life-as-you-know-it halting pain simply don’t get it. And no amount of explaining, defining or talking will change that. You’ve either lived through a migraine or you haven’t. And in this particular household, I’m the only unfortunate when it comes to migraines soul.
I really shouldn’t complain, but try telling yourself that when in the midst of trying to get the out of practice marching band to stop partying like it’s 1999 it in your skull. I started having migraines as a young teenager. My general practioner (who has been the family doctor since before my mom was even born) sent me to have my eyes checked. In the midst of a full-fledged eye exam, the ophthalmologist found something strange behind my eye. So, in 2.5 seconds I was off to the neurologist and the inevitable round of CTs and MRIs that generally follows. CT came back clear. MRI no so much so.
I had a “mass” behind my eye. The neurologist crossed her fingers and hoped it was a pseudotumor. We did the lumbar puncture thing… and I thought for sure I was going to die. Little did I know, however, that the LP would become much preferred to the hell to follow. The morning after, I ended up in the hospital, certain I was dying. Of course, I was also certain I wasn’t going to be lucky enough to die at that point in time.
And I wasn’t (a fact for which I am exceedingly grateful, except when in the throes of a migraine).
I did, however, get shipped to the Children’s Hospital for another round of tests. They thought it was a brain tumor. 10 years later, the mass is still there, but it ain’t growing. So, I have opted to leave the sucker there. That decision did not come without a price, however.
Migraines. They’ve become like that old unwelcome acquaintance that is always hanging around. You try to hint that you don’t want company, you even outright say it…. You receive a blank stare in return. You say you have plans, it invites itself along.
A complete pain in the ass. And unfortunately, a huge fact of life… my life to be exact.
But I digress.
As I said ages ago, those who’ve never experienced a migraine, just don’t get it. Never have. Never will. That fact isn’t likely to change, so I no longer waste my breath trying to explain. But, I’m not above begging and pleading when the need arises. And I think the need has definitely risen to gargantuan proportions.
If everyone would compute the word migraine as “an absolute, unwavering need for complete peace and quite (and dark)” the world would definitely be a better place. Many of those who have never had a migraine don’t understand the noise and light issues that invariably accompany said occurance and try though they might, never get the noise to the writing on an etch-a-sketch and passing it back in forth level a migraine requires.
My dear sister is the prime example. With the exception of a few months, we’ve lived under the same roof since we were babies. She’s been there for 95% of the migraine episodes… and yet 10 years later, she still can’t keep it down. I no more got the word migraine out of my mouth last night and she started slamming cabinets. And then of course, had the audacity to be affronted when I threatened to strangle her. My husband is much the same.
I’ve begun to believe it’s a mental block in the minds of non-migraine sufferers. They hear the word and something just… blanks. The ability to be quiet simply vanishes into thin air. I’ll never understand it. Never have. Never will. It’s not that they don’t try… but their best efforts usually leave something to be desired simply because they don’t understand how important the need truly is.
I suppose though, it just goes to show… Those with migraines and those without will forever be separated by an insurmountable inability to understand. I guess the saying is true: you have to walk a mile in someone else’s shoes to truly appreciate your own… unless you suffer from migraines, in which case you would gladly keep the shoes of the lucky bastard that’s never been so soundly defeated by the out of tune marching band.
