"I don't want to catch it!"

I just crawled out of a two-day migraine.  It was hell.

I've only had three in my life, and I hope I never have another.  However, as I retched bile into a bucket, my faithful cat staring up at me with concern, and Ron cooing "Poor Baby", I also realized I am incredibly blessed.

I blame the vegetables.  Ron delayed half my pay this week (I got the balance today), so I took what I did have and bought healthy things.  Doc wants me to improve my diet, so I got a small squash, celery, green beans, and some stir fry beef.

The beef was really cut too thick for a stir fry, but I made a good one anyway.  The vegetables were nicely crunchy, flavored with a little garlic and sautéed in vegetable oil.

I felt very proud of myself, eating my vegetables.  Until the next morning, the actual day of my doctor's appointment, when I woke up and went pretty much straight to vomiting.

I had just enough time to grab a bucket.  Oh, it was horrible.  Ron wondered if I could still make it to Doc's.

My head felt like a kettledrum.  "No" I croaked.  "You need to cancel".

I've grown a lot in the last couple years.  If I get lonely, I'll tell Ron "I got lonely" and get a cuddle.  If I want some attention from the cat, I make sad noises at him until he comes over for petting.  Sometimes, it works.

I've also told Ron: If I have a migraine, I need to hear that I am poor baby, and I need to hear it a lot.   He's very obliging.

Oh, I was so miserable.  Day one was pretty bad, and that was with the phenergan (anti-nausea) suppository.  I managed to crash for a few hours but then the vomiting returned with a vengeance.  I did manage to hold down a little water.  Enough to prevent dehydration, which is very bad with my medications.

Oh, and the medication.  No mood pills for 2 days?  Not fun.  Really, closer to 3 days.  I had a lot of anxiety Day one.   Ron brought me an ice bag.  Oh, I love that man.

You may wonder why I don't take an actual migraine medication.  A couple of reasons:  I am at pretty high risk of heart disease, due to medication, weight, and family history.  It is not a good idea to take tripitans on top of that - they can cause heart attacks in young, healthy, thin people.  Secondly, tripitans make me freak out - big time.  Like -  I wouldn't sleep for a week manias.  Yike.  I'll take the migraine!

The phenergan helps me sleep, which is what I really need with a migraine, and it keeps me from vomiting.  It did that, but wore off.  Ron tore apart the fridge looking for another, and scolded me, gently, for running out.

Then I threw up again, and he called Doc for a refill.  Walmart was out!  I couldn't believe it.  I had to wait a whole day.

Day one, I managed to fall asleep, but I kept tossing, turning, and suffering.  From what I have heard, a migraine is a lot like a hangover.  I've never had a hangover, but from what I have seen it's pretty similar.  You vomit a lot, your head throbs in agony, you want to die.

I was vomiting bile - it was ugly.  Ron was just gaping in shock at the horrible noises, and I thanked God he was blind.  I reeked.  I hadn't even had time to put on deodorant before the migraine hit.  My hair was a tangled nest.

He kept telling me I was a poor baby, and calling the Walmart pharmacy about my prescription.

I wear it back in a ponytail, so I kept scraping it back and re-fastening the elastic - the only problem, I didn't want it pulled back tightly, so it kept coming loose.  I flopped back and forth in bed, retching into my bucket and begging God to help me endure the pain.

Swearing I would never, ever, eat another vegetable!

I feel like I got robbed, two days of my life, gone forever.

Day 2 was slightly better.  I was still vomiting, but not as much, and still holding down enough water to stave off dehydration.  

I was fine eating TV dinners!  But a healthy dinner and I'm prostrated for days!   Oh, the irony!

I wondered how long I'd have the migraine.  I've only had a couple, 2-day migraines, but read they could go up to three.  Oh, how hideous.  I begged God for help.

I also tried to croak out a few prayers for the unreached, recipients, and all.  I missed having my God Time but figured He didn't need me vomiting at Him.

Ron called a friend, who came by to take him to the pharmacy.  Ron was, as usual, late coming out, so I staggered outside in my nightgown.  Chuck took one look at me and rolled up his window.

"I don't want to catch it!"

If I hadn't been hurting so badly, I would have fallen down laughing.  "You can't catch this" I croaked. I  told him Ron was coming and crawled back into bed.

Ron came home with the phenergan, just in time to hear me vomiting into my bucket.  Oh, relief.

I was a little alarmed.  Doc wrote me a prescription for 30!  I hope I never need them!

I inserted the little devil .  They are almost impossible to remove from the packaging.  That's mean, torturing sick, nauseous, people.

I drank a little more water and crawled off to bed.  I slept horribly, had nightmares, but woke up feeling somewhat better.

I felt pretty frail, like the headache wanted to come back, but it didn't.  So, we went to work.

Mom will tell you, and this drove her nuts:  I have a policy, I do not eat until I am hungry.  For me, that meant a small snack around lunch, a little macaroni later, and then eventually more macaroni and a big handful of mood stabilizers (OK by Doc).

I need to catch up!   I know my levels are off.  I cried as I watched "Undercover Boss" tonight.

That's not normal for me.