Don’t tough it out – there are medications that may help turn your grayest sky into blue.
I dealt with terrible headaches in my college years that forced
me to hide in bed for hours. Those headaches might also have been stress-
and depression-related. But they seemed manageable and better yet, they disappeared entirely--
until I gave birth to our second child at age 35. They came back with vengeance.
It's been 6.5 years since they came back. I was convinced that I had a baseball-sized tumor growing behind my right eye, threatening to make my skull explode. After a CT scan and MRI, the neurologist concluded it was run-of-the-mill migraine.
My nerves go haywire during an attack. My senses become my worst
enemy. Colors hurt. Lights hurt. Noises hurt. Sunlight (or snow) without sunglasses can be a
trigger. Scents can trigger an attack or aggravate existing pain. I spilled
perfume on myself at Target once and knew within seconds that a migraine was soon
to follow. Even the most mundane sounds can feel like daggers. It makes me so sad
that my children’s voices become sources of anguish for me during a migraine
attack. I reflexively put my hands over my ears or eyes as if that will help
keep the stimuli out.
Migraines are different than other headaches (for me) because:
·
Migraines are on one side of my head, behind one
eye (usually my right).
· They don’t respond to Advil, Tylenol, Excedrin, caffeine,
rest, or a dark room – when I feel one coming on, it’s like dealing with an
oncoming train –unstoppable.
· They make me nauseous. The pain plus bright light,
sound, and strong odors overwhelm my sensitive stomach. Granted, it doesn’t
take much to make me nauseous; airplanes and boats do the trick 9 times out of
10. Before I found out about triptans, a migraine day meant lying in dark room with
trips to the toilet to get sick every 30-45 minutes or so.
· Because of the nausea, I can’t “tough it out.”
I’m out of commission. I’ve vomited in unlikely places trying to “tough it out”
including church, my car, and the side of the road.
· I go into “flight” mode. I want to retreat and
get away from all stimuli. Pretty tough when you are a mom. As my kids get
older, it has become easier to explain that Mom is sick, needs a shot, and must
lie down.
Finding your triggers is like looking for a needle in a
haystack. Dairy, caffeine, alcohol, MSG, preservatives, nitrates, sleep
deprivation, computer screens, sunlight, and more.
There are ways to possibly avert attacks – with a beta-blocker
(Propranolol), magnesium supplements, yoga,
massage, and even Botox injections. I’ve
tried all of the above (minus Botox) as well as: Butterbur supplements, COQ 10,
essentials oils (peppermint, clary-sage, various blends), and muscle relaxants.
Right now, my doctor asked me to try an anti-depressant, nortriptyline,
which is supposed to help with migraine prevention. It’s been a week. There is
an anti-convulsant we can try, too.
The days where I have a hint of a future migraine are almost
as bad because I walk on eggshells fearful that one is about to take me down.
When I breast-fed, it was far worse because I had to pump enough “untainted”
(triptan-free) breast milk to get my babies through 12 long hours. I was
supposed to pump and dump in the meantime. And it still scared me to feed them
after those stretches. I recall bending my body over a breast pump with a
killer migraine trying to expel every last drop of milk before I took a sumatriptan
shot. Looking into the eyes of my infant children who longed to nurse was no
picnic either. I went through this process with two babies whom I breastfed for
a collective 33 months!
The sumatriptan injections are God-send for me. I can feel “almost
normal” about 40-60 minutes after taking one. Without this drug, my migraine
episodes could last 8-10 hours! Unlike taking a pill, you FEEL the medicine
working right away. It is a strange sensation – my skin gets prickly, my blood runs
colder and feels carbonated. I feel sort of panicky and restless for the first
20-30 minutes after the injection. Then slowly, mercifully, I feel the pain
recede from my right eye.
Then our health insurance ran out (husband was between jobs)
and we had to pay full (retail) price: $120 per dose. That’s $120 for one shot;
and it was a generic drug! I couldn’t believe it. I was furious. How many
people suffer with migraines and cannot afford this drug?? Are you kidding me?!
Any non-migraine day is a blessed day and I try to remember
to thank God for the pain-free days.
