Even Big League Pain Meds Won’t Help This Hall of Famer 

It’s been a full week since this  pounding, throbbing, pulsating, evil like migraine has started. 

With no end in sight, I went to the ER for acute treatment to at least get rid of it for a while.

After 4, yes 4 tries to get an IV in me, I was administered the big pain killers. 

Sidebar: I’m sorry but even if I don’t have the greatest of veins, it shouldn’t take 4 very painful tries to get an IV. Also don’t ask me “are you usually difficult when it comes to IVs?” Lady, even when I’ve been very dehydrated, people have gotten my vein on their first try. This is the second time at this same hospital that they have take 4 times to get a vein. And mind you, they hit the wrong place a couple times cuz it was much more painful than normal.

Ok sorry, to continue:

I was hopeful that at least this would get rid of my migraine until tomorrow.

Well, I felt relief for all of an hour. And then dude hammering away in my brain started hammering away again.

The pounds. The thuds. The beating. 

It all is back. 

So now what? What’s a girl to do now? 

I’m trying very hard to trust in God’s path for me. Trying very hard to keep the faith strong when the entirety of me is weakened to a pulp.

My fear is an ocean and my worries are a swarm of gnats in the summer heat.  

  
Will try to sleep now and pray that tomorrow brings new hope, new relief, (and once science gets there, a new brain 😁) 

In high need of good thoughts, prayers, advice, hugs, and puppy cuddles. 

I accept any or all of the above 

💛

Song of the Week: “Slow it Down” by The Lumineers 

Song of the Week: “Slow It Down” by @thelumineers 
This song stops me in my tracks every time it plays. I’ve used it as a pillow to lay my head down on during times when I’ve felt defeated, overwhelmed, and discouraged. 
One of my favorite lines of any song is in this song:

And when she stood, she stood tall

It takes a lot to stand up every time you get knocked down–especially when you’re getting knocked down over and over again. And sometimes you just can’t stand up after every knockout. But I tell you this, when you do stand up to all the struggles life’s been throwing you, people will notice and stare in awe.

This song comforts me in a blanket of understanding when I don’t have the strength to stand, but encourages me to gather the courage to do so. Maybe it can do the same for you. 💙

Do any of you feel a similar connection to this song? Or have a song that makes you feel a similar way?

Comment below: 

It’s Not Bragging if it’s True 

  
Well I’m on day 3.5 of this ongoing, debilitating migraine.

  And even when I try to silence my brain to give it a break, I can’t stop the ever flowing thoughts. Because that’s how it works, right? So today I started thinking: 

What’s one thing all spoonies hear almost every single day?

For me, it’s “I can’t imagine how you do that. I wouldn’t be able to handle that.” 

Hearing this has become as familiar as hearing “how are you” or “good morning” for me. From strangers, friends, family, co-workers, and if my dog could speak probably from him too.

Most of the time I think “yep. It sucks.” But sometimes I think to myself: “You know what. That’s a compliment, and it’s very true.” 

When they say “He wouldn’t put you through something you couldn’t handle.” I guess it’s actually true. Us spoonies were given our illnesses because we are strong enough to handle them. Do we still break down in absolute pain and misery? Well yeah, but who wouldn’t? But I look back at so many times of my life (final exams, competitive fastpitch softball games in the summer heat, driving an hour home at night, running the mile in high school, making it through a work day full of loud co-workers and staring at a computer screen) that I fully and willingly participated in while I had full blown migraines. 

Do I think other people would be able to do the same had they been in my shoes? Some people, sure. Other people, no I don’t think so.

So during long migraine (or other chronic pain or illness) spells, while it’s very easy to wish you were someone else in a different body, I think it’s more effective to focus on how strong we truly are. Not many people could deal with this type of pain on a daily basis. Do I think I’m stronger than other people? In this situation, I do. And I’m proud of it.

It’s not bragging if it’s true, right? 

 

What’s the Word? “Fortitude”

  
Fortitude. 

A word I love. A word I repeat in my head day in and day out. A constant reminder that I am stronger than any difficulty I am facing. 

Physical strength is great. Without physical strength I wouldn’t have been able to get up to bat every time I had a migraine during a really important game. I wouldn’t have been able to endure the multiple nurses and endless prodding by needles when my veins were being stubborn during blood drawings. It’s a strength I’ve learned how to control and can be seen by others around me.

Mental and emotional strength takes a much stronger person to master. How many plans do you have to cancel, trips you have to miss, crying breakdowns you have to endure, anxiety attacks you have to conquer, etc, does it take for one person to truly give into the mental and emotional pain of chronic illness and pain? 

I wish I could count on my hands the number of times I’ve broken down in extreme frustration, anger, sadness, the like due to health issues that piled on top of me until I felt like I was suffocating. But I can’t, because I don’t have that many hands.

It was worse in the years prior. With age, and experience, comes maturity. Lately, I’ve displayed more emotional and mental strength than I thought was capable of. It helps to have an encouraging support system who constantly tells you how strong you are. But instead of feeling like you’re getting an ego boost, you feel proud.

Proud that you are still fighting. Proud that you aren’t letting the difficulties that pile up, win. Proud that you are mentally and emotionally strong enough to show the world that no matter what, you will continue to walk through your journey with your head held high.

Fortitude is a word I repeat in my head every single day. I’ll be damned if I let my adversities beat me down. 

For Those People Who I’ve Pushed Away

I’ve recently stumbled across the website The Mighty. It’s a website where people living with disabilities, diseases and mental illnesses can submit their real stories and have them published to not only reach those who suffer as well but to reach those who live with and love someone who is suffering. It’s an awesome site and It’s definitely worth checking out whether it’s relevant to you right now or not.

Recently published on this site was an article written by a young lady who I can very closely relate to regarding an issue that I’ve never really figured out how to quite put into words myself. She did a wonderful job doing so for me and everyone else who feels the same way.

Read the article here–“To My Loved Ones When I Don’t Want Your Company”

When I’m facing a high (as in a 9 or 10) pain day, most of the time I want to retreat to my bed, curl up under my covers and escape into my own world. Like the writer of this article said, it’s partially for my loved one’s sake but partially for my own sake.

I push my loved ones away for their sake because I don’t want them to feel uncomfortable or sad.  So often when someone sticks around, I’m worried about how my health issues are taking over their life as well. My weakness is causing their mental and emotional strength to waiver and I will feel the need to protect them and to comfort them. While there are other times I am able to do this, during high intensity pain days, I don’t have the energy to do that.

But part of it is for my own sake. When I’m facing days like these, I end up getting so totally lost in my own head. I spend my time wondering how my heavy, throbbing head can feel so physically disconnected from the rest of my body. As the writer states in the article, it’s such a personal experience to feel so unwell to the point of not knowing how to handle your own body let alone your thoughts that arise from the unbearable pain. It’s an experience I don’t want anyone else to have to witness.

There are times when I need solitude and there are times when I need my loved ones around. Don’t feel as if it’s a personal attack when someone with a chronic disorder asks for you to leave during these high pain moments. We may not want you there in that moment, but we are so grateful for your willingness and readiness to be there for us whenever and wherever we need you.