Doing my head in

I did not go to work today after all. I woke up with a splitting headache, and on getting up, needed to lie down again with my arm over my eyes, ow the light MY EYES.

I got back up again after half an hour and some painkillers, whinged to H, and went back to bed again. No, wait, must call work and excuse myself. And drink tea. And go back to bed again.

By lunchtime I was wondering if I wasn’t having some kind of mini-migraine, as my eye-sight was blurry and I felt sick and out-of-it. It didn’t get particularly full-on, and eventually wandered off grumbling into the middle distance, where it is now squatting menacingly, kept at bay with ibuprofen and enough tea to waterlog a woolly mammoth.

I feel crappy about missing work, what with work being a bit of an understaffed nest of chaos at the moment.

I feel annoyed with work, though, because *whisper it* some of the chaos needn’t have been incubated in the first place. Ahem. And resentful of all the days I’ve made myself trek in despite pains in my lower abdomen that make me want to cry and bite someone’s leg, because of said understaffing, and come away feeling that I really really need a teeshirt saying ‘look, I feel like shit but I’m here anyway. What’s your excuse?’

(I have lower abdominal pain, some, or slight, or savage, most days from the day before my period is due to a couple of days after I’ve ovulated. Every single month. Over and over again.)

The headache was just, well, OK, fine, Universe, if you want to play it like that, I’m going the fuck back to bed.

If the surgery is a) delayed for more than a couple of weeks, or b) inconclusive and undiagnostic, I rather worry about what I shall do next. Given that I’m in this sort of state of mind now.

I need an answer. Please let there be an answer. Even if that answer is ‘for the love of God, stop trying to get pregnant and get on with your life.’

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12 responses to “Doing my head in

  • a

    Ha. If only things were that simple… I hope you can get some answers.

  • katie

    I don’t have an answer (except, spend lots of money on adoption and have your mother say “what, it costs money?” but then she complains that a restaurant I am proposing for her birthday is about £15 for a main course, but you don’t really want that answer I don’t think).

    But I do find that sumatriptan helps the migraines that don’t quite make it, like that one.

  • Anonymous

    The aswer is 42- as in rob 42 banks and run away to an IVF clinic? Or hope that a bionic womb is invented in the next 42 days?

    I don’t know what the answer is, and I hope there is one, and one that is conducive to getting pregnant.
    My answer for headaches is heat- those nice heatpacks that are useful for crampy bits are also quite effective when placed over the eyes and forehead and ears (i just wrap a couple around my head). I don’t know why, but warmed eustachian tubes seems to be effective in dimming the pain. It seems counterintuitive, especially when those cooling eye masks also help, but it really does work for me.

  • Kylie

    Well, darn it, there was a comment.

    The answer is 42- rob 42 banks and use the proceeds to fund an IVF or two.

    Otherwise I just hpope the answer you get is one that helps.

    I find that heat – the heatpacks used for crampy bits- really helps. place them over the eyes and upper nose bits, and also the ears. Somehow warmed eustachian tubes create less pain.

  • Korechronicles

    There are foul sub-creatures spawned from the subterranean migraine chamber which the medical profession (well, my particular pratitioner of it) tinklingly calls Atypical. Sumatriptan comes in a wonderful nasal spray version that bypasses oversensitive atypically affected gut that heaves pills back in the bucket. Curse that mutation 1q23.

    If I were anywhere in the vicinity you would have your rum and cocoa, heavy on the rum.

  • Solnushka

    *crossing my fingers that the surgery is on schedule and conclusive and helpful*

  • twangy

    Poor, poor, worried head. Put it on the pillow and have a rest. No one could deserve it more.

  • Valery Valentina

    erhm. From before period till after ovulation, isn’t that three quarters of every cycle? That is a lot of days with pain, not in the least helpful for this getting pregnant thing.
    Clear answers do exist sometimes, I know I have mine. It makes it easier to think about what comes next. the slightly less dark grey kind of easier, but still. Hope your surgery will not make matters even more worrying. Less worry, less pain.

  • bionicbrooklynite

    i do always wonder what to do about those mini-migraines. the kind that don’t react to aspirin but don’t conclusively flatten me, either. go home and feel i’m exaggerating things? stay at work and seem vaguely insane? i can read out of my *left* eye, after all…. one semester i had a classroom that must have had some kind of curse on it; i got one every time i was in there. lord knows what those students thought of me. kindly concern at best, i imagine, and probably more like disgust that so many schools had seen fit to socially promote me.

    sympathies and cool, dark rooms and maybe a hammock if you’re up to it. xo

  • Hairy Farmer Family

    I want to coddle you & H up in some bubble wrap for the winter, and let you out carefully in the spring when the germs have subsided somewhat. You have too much to cope with already without nearly-migraines and work chaos.

    I do feel particularly sympathetic about your commute: 2 hours a day when you’re not feeling robust must be awful. I find public transport, particularly in London, really exhausting (not used to it, too many people, far too much noise, too much to look at, too many eyes to not meet, too many elbows to avoid, worrying about WhereTheHellDoIGetOff?, have I lost my ticket?) and the thought of doing your commute while far from well… erk. I’d never go. I’d just never go. I’ve dragged myself into work ill many a time – but I can drive a car even when A&E-level incapacitated without too much trouble (although the oncoming traffic veers & flashes a bit) plus my car is my safe cocoon of You’llBeHomeSoon with my own bits & bobs in, so it’s generally a preferable place to wherever I’ve left. Tackling a train or a bus – or even a taxi, damnit – whilst in the midst of Abdominals would add hugely to my distress. I think we need to arrange some sort of helicopter door-to-door service for when you’re feeling under the weather, equipped with a luxury-spec loo for Those Days. That’s it. That’s what working girls with Regular Abdominal Misery need. We need Speedy’s Flying Toilet Service to take you the fuck back to bed.

  • Shannon

    Migraines are the work of the devil. I don’t mean that in a religious aspect, they are just the absolutely worst. You have incredible baskets of sympathy and Imigran from me if you want/need. And tea. I can offer tea.

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