It all went downhill so quickly.

It all went downhill so quickly.

All morning, I feel relatively okay. Some normal pain, but nothing TOO bad. And for me, that’s pretty good.

I shower and still feel okay. I think in my head, maybe today will be a good day.

But as I start to slip on my shoes for a nice walk outside, I can feel something has changed. Only an inkling of a familiar feeling. But it’s there all the same.

My fingers begin to tremor as I attempt to lace up my shoes, making it difficult to tie them. My whole body begins to feel just a little jittery. 

I decide to press on. Nothing too bad yet. I really want to walk. To move. To get in the sunshine.

But I get just outside the door, and I detect an almost imperceptible twinge, somewhere deep in my stomach.

I continue on, soaking up the sun and beauty and surroundings of my short hike around my neighborhood.

But the twinge grows and by the time I get back from my beautiful walk, I’m wrenched into full blown nausea and dizziness.

And then it all comes crashing down. Like it does so often. In an instant, the swimmy, sick, foggy, agonizing head pain collapses down all over me. I can hardly stand.

My hopes for a nice evening with my family, on our one day off from evening activities, seems dashed. Or at least my enjoyment of the evening.

I take every migraine med I have in my arsenal, and I wait. Shaky, nauseated, hazy, and in immense, skull crushing pain.  Hoping something, anything, can bring me back from the other side.

I have a choice. Go up and rest…which as one of my previous slices says, comes with a lot of mental baggage. Or push through and be miserable on the inside, but make my family happy (and in turn, me a little happy). It’s a hard choice. And one I might be too debilitated to make this time around.

Wobbly and unstable, queasy and miserable, I decide, against my better judgment, to push my way through making dinner. I could have not cooked anything. But I just wanted to do something for my family before the big crash hits…and soon. I wanted to make them a real meal. Something I struggle with most days because of  feeling so badly so often. And sitting at the dinner table with them made them and me very, very happy.

After finishing the meal with my loves, I crawl my way back to the couch and cover myself completely with a comforter and fell asleep at 7pm. The disguise so good that my daughter came in and almost sat on me.

I eventually dragged myself to my bed, stayed just barely conscious enough to say good night to my beautiful children, and I was back to sleep within seconds. Down for the night. Feeling slightly better but hungover too badly  from the trauma to escape with anything but sleep.