By Mia Maysack, PNN Columnist
I've got a companion everywhere I go. The wants and needs of this little bugger consistently require that I prioritize it before myself. It tests my boundaries, my patience, as well as my sanity.
I cannot eat, sleep or even use the restroom uninterrupted. This results in a consistent flow of tailored accommodations to make life easier for all involved. Temper tantrums are not only a daily occurrence, but a humble reminder that I am operating on a clock outside of my control.
I'm not discussing a child. I am referring to my chronic illness.
Migraines and my other ailments wake me up throughout the night, demanding attention. We all know how this works. No one gets any rest until the situation settles down. Pain is a constant companion who must be catered to.
Today, for example, I woke up to what felt like a pitchfork making its way through my cheek and out through my left eyeball. Grabbing my face out of reflex -- as if somehow that'll ease the discomfort -- I rocked myself back and forth until the severity lessened.
My entire body still feels the aftershock of that attack, but it's only the first of many that'll transpire throughout the day. I know enough to recognize this as a warning. My brain injury is now triggered, turning an everyday 5/6 on the migraine scale into a solid 8/9.
The impact on my physical body is severe due to the heightened sensitivity of my nerves. Getting up from a sitting position gets harder by the day. At times it is not possible for me to stand up straight or navigate stairs. Sometimes I can barely walk.
There is overwhelming nausea to the point that even breathing seems to aggravate it, so no food or drink remains inside. This causes further complications, as malnourishment and dehydration only worsen things. The dizziness gets so severe it hinders my eyesight.
Despite the fact I am on no drugs whatsoever, I feel “out of it” to the point that all I can do is write because I'm unable to verbally speak.
If you're so sick, how can you type? Lowest brightness. Special glasses. I document this so the world can understand and because I am currently on bed rest.
It doesn't take long for the darkness to creep in, with special guests anxiety, grief, stress and panic. Despite how much it hurts, keeping my mind busy is imperative. So I write.
What I'd really love to do is rest, but it hurts to close my eyes. And even though quality sleep is what my body needs most, it further heightens my head pain. In other words, the self-care that has been my saving grace actually worsens things.
I'm not a violent person, but if someone suggested a Tylenol or something like it, I'd have to fight the urge to use my last ounce of energy to punch them in the face.
No work was done today, meetings were cancelled, my dog didn't get a walk and I am barricaded in a blacked-out room. Another rescheduled dinner date with the girls, unable to answer phone calls or messages, couldn't run errands or get any chores done. The world continues to spin without me.
Missing out on life and feeling the weight of disappoint is a crippling side effect of all these symptoms. With broken hearts we mourn the lives we've lived and who we once were.
I have always been the one to take care of everybody -- the nanny, teacher, nurse. Now I struggle just to keep up with what's going on internally. As if that’s not difficult enough, we have to fight to be taken seriously or even believed. That is unacceptable.
Mia Maysack lives with chronic migraine, cluster headaches and fibromyalgia. Mia is the founder of Keepin’ Our Heads Up, a Facebook support group, and Peace & Love Enterprises, a wellness coaching practice focused on holistic health.
The information in this column should not be considered as professional medical advice, diagnosis or treatment. It is for informational purposes only and represents the author’s opinions alone. It does not inherently express or reflect the views, opinions and/or positions of Pain News Network.