I couldn’t handle it

Pin It The pain stormed through my head like a cyclonic shock wave.

I switched off the light and cradled my head in my hands. The pain was more than I wanted right then…or ever, to be honest.

I wanted to find someplace cool to sit, maybe like the walk-in freezer I’d often used so many times before at my old school. I’d go in and sit in there with my head up against one of the frosty shelves…anything to ease the tormenting pain.

The door opened and the doctor walked in. Out came a file as he began to question me. How long had it been like this? How often did they happen? He swam in and out of my consciousness as my stomach churned violently.

“Since I was five,” I responded, making a dive for the wastebasket and beginning to vomit spectacularly.

I think he was impressed; it was clear that I was not acting.

He paused his questioning until I’d finished.

“Have you ever had an MRI for this? Any type of blood work done? Have you ever seen a specialist?”

I wiped remnants of stomachness from my mouth and responded; the answer made me realize how stupid I’d been for a score of years…there was that simple fact that I’d had migraines for years and had never once consulted a doctor about it.

“No, no, and no.”

He made a note on his clipboard.

I was reminded of the episode of Seinfeld when Elaine went to see a doctor and happened to look at her chart; she noticed that a previous doctor had written, “Difficult” in her file. She then tries to steal the chart so that future doctors won't know about this little entry.

I was an idiot. I hadn’t sought out medical help from something which had been an affliction in my life for decades? Here is the beginnings of my own 'Elaine' file.

I had no answer, however, at this time I really didn’t care, it hurt too much to even think.

After another series of questions, and an additional vomiting episode, the doctor gave me some Rizatriptan Benzoate. What is it? Not sure, but it is supposed to work wonders. I am to give it a ‘test run’ the next time a migraine threatens to take over.

I came home and fell into bed, waking up some four to five hours later. Which brings me to my present ‘awakeness’ at nearly 1:00 in the morning. I’ll probably be up for a few more hours as sleep won’t come to me now.

So, final prognosis? As of right now there is none. I will have to get an MRI done…the doctor said he’d like to get a good look at my brain.

Hope he’s not too impressed…