The First 10

Drafted on 10/14/17

Last night was the first time in my journey that I've told a medical professional my pain was at the top of the scale.  They ask, on a scale of 1-10, 1 being not at all and 10 being the worst you've ever felt, what is your pain like?  I've never told anybody, even myself, that my pain was above 9.5.  But last night, I broke that mold.  It was a 10.  And I still wouldn't admit it.  My husband had to sort of give me permission to use the number, making me understand that I wouldn't be quizzed on it later.  Helping me to see that, this nurse in the ER, he doesn't see how much pain I live with each day.  This is not a test.  He just needs to understand how uncomfortable I am, how much I am enduring, suffering.  That extra .5 that you are hanging onto for your own mental stability can be abandoned now, and forever.  It is ok if you say your pain is at 10.  They're not gonna punch you in your migraine-riddled head and then ask you again, forcing you to say 11.  It's safe to say 10 when that is the truth of the feeling.  It was last night.  Here is the story.

Yesterday, I hadn't had enough sleep when the day started.  We needed to go pick up our shopping and run to the PetSmart for the cat food, all of which I ordered online and we just needed to pick up.  And I needed to be home by about 11:15 in order to have some lunch before the bus picked me up at 12:05 for my ride to my support group meeting at 1pm.  So the day started out not great.  Hadn't been able to fall asleep until after 1am.  Just not enough rest, that's all.  

Lay down on the couch while waiting for the bus, resting, feeling the migraine birth, taking the relievers I have here to take, doing all the things I need to do to help stunt its growth.  So, in addition to this, the diarrhea began, just before I was due to leave the house.  Increasing my dehydration.

At the support group, which I don't regret attending, by the way, it did get worse.  I did laugh, and I was valued and loved, and gave love and value, but, it did get worse.  Just by way of stupid flourescent light.  But it still was what I'd call reasonable.  I was able to take my sunglasses and hat off to take a quick group picture.  So, the stars being aligned the way they were, here is the straw that broke this camel-back.  The very polite young man who drove my bus (mini-van) home.  He was nothing but kindness to me, and I was already very uncomfortable re headache.  But, his odor was migraine food.  It grew exponentially so that 30 minutes later when we were home, I could barely see.  (One thing I could have done in hindsight to prevent some of what I was exposed to was to ask if he could just strap my chair down in front with him, and I would ride in the back, so I wasn't sitting right next to him.  But, it might have made little difference.)  I got out my trusty peppermint essential oil and rubbed it all over my face, including just barely on the skin up my nostrils.  This guy's scent was literally making me ill, and I had to do whatever was at my disposal to survive.   I didn't want to vomit, and there was real danger of that.  I held the small bottle of oil up to my nose during the whole drive home, with a blindfold on my eyes.  

Arriving at home, I was so disoriented, that I fumbled around for my keys, unknowingly pressing the panic button on my home security system.  I got a call within seconds.  I wasn't remotely able to answer a phone call, nor did I look to see who it was, and let it go.  I got inside and Tim greeted me, saying that I'd just set the alarm off, and he just got it turned off.  His phone was ringing.  He missed the first time, and picked up the second ring.  It was the alarm company, ready to send the police to me for my panic alert.  So, we were just on this side of keeping the police out of the uncomfortable day.  lol

I went straight to my bedroom.  I managed to get out of my clothes and laid on my bed with as much comfort as I could manage.  A little later, I knew I had to take some action, this was getting serious.  So, I went to my bathtub, and I let alternating hot and cold shower streams hit my head.  I think I did that for about 20 minutes.  I needed help getting out of the tub, so T came and helped.  We got me dry and to my bed.  I had him give me 10 mg diazepam.  That thankfully knocked me out for about an hour and a half.  When I woke up, the headache was worse.  I discussed with T that the only thing I had to do was to take a muscle relaxer but, that would create a situation where he would have to help me get out of bed and to the bathroom.  I wouldn't be able to do anything with my voluntary muscles.  And the diarrhea would likely strike again.  But, because there wasn't anything else to try, we went forward with that, and he stayed in my room for a bit, because I was scared to be by myself.  Just after he left, I was almost asleep again when the vomiting began.  After I vomited, I got on my support chat, asking my friends to send up a prayer for me.  One of them, thankfully, wisely told me that if vomiting has begun, its time to go to the ER.  I thought a shot of Tordol might help.  I'd only had this medicine one time before when I let a migraine go for 8 days.  At that time, it didn't help a bit.  But, I thought for this one, since it was still the first day, that it might.  So, I called T and told him I needed to go to the ER for a shot.  He got up from bed, and got me some clothes, helped me dress, got my list of meds from my health file, and took me back to the very hospital that my support group met at earlier in the day.  

I didn't stop vomiting during the 20 minute drive.  Not once.  I was dry heaving at the parking lot.  

He filled out my forms. 

UPDATE:  At this point, the piece ends and I did not write again until last week, Apr 29, 2018.  I won't go into all that happened during the rest of that particular evening, nor will I take space here to delve into the last 7 months.  Suffice to say that it was a hard winter for me, but I have been making progress and quality of life feels high again.   

Have happy days.