Morning Olympics (part 2) starring Fibro Fog and Migraine

So, I’m done in the bathroom, and I could actually twist enough to do what one does after using the toilet (it involves toilet paper). Those mornings where I can’t functionally use toilet paper is just a drag on my day, I’m tellin’ ya.

I get a mug of water from the kitchen and sit back on my bed to try to remember what I had to get done today. I know I need to dust my bedroom,  but that wasn’t it…was it? Didn’t I have to make a phone call? Yeah, that’s it, I have to make a phone call. Erm…who was I supposed to call. Or am I supposed to text instead? ~Sigh~ I really hate Fibro Fog. I put the mug of water on my nightstand.

Not really any closer to knowing my plans I start to get dressed. Right now I am unemployed, which, technically, is a good thing I guess because I am in a Fibromyalgia flare and it’s a doozy. Lotsa pain, lotsa fog, lotsa exhaustion, and lotsa living in my bed all day with ice packs, old movies and e-books (because holding a regular book hurts my hands and my fingers have a hard time turning the pages). I turn my head to look at the clothes I’d pulled out the night before, the tight restrictive bra, the heavy denim cropped jeans, and a t-shirt.

And right about then I feel a very painful twinge in my neck that radiates up the back of my head. No, no NO! I DO NOT WANT A MIGRAINE!! Does that mean a migraine is coming? Did I just turn my head the wrong way? Is the osteoarthritis in my neck just being sadistic? (cue scare chord here: The twinge is gone already, as quick as that. Phew!! But now I’m a little dizzy and nauseous and I feel my energy levels dropping.

I look at my comfy, loose pajamas and tell myself I can get dressed tomorrow. I need to sit here for a little while until the dizzy-sick-to-stomach passes and I get some energy built up. So, I sit for a few minutes, waiting. My stomach, which has a mind of its own, growls. How, just how, can I feel nauseous and yet my stomach wants food at the same time? Even the thought of food makes me want to throw up. I don’t even want to think about food and my stomach growls again. I sip from my mug of water contemplating the peculiarities of life and I have to throw up…right now.

I jump up (ok, stand up as quickly as I can using the nightstand for balance) and run (lurch) to the bathroom. I make it in time but it leaves me really drained so I sit on the cool, tiled, bathroom floor for who knows how long before I climb to a standing position, using the side of the tub and the sink counter, and head back to my bed.

Crap, I have a migraine. I can feel its spindly legs of pain crawling up my neck and thudding into my head. I reach for the Excedrin Migraine bottle I keep in my nightstand drawer and fumble with the lid.

Can’t the makers of these OTC medicines realize that those DAMNABLE lids are almost impossible to open when you have a) arthritis or pain in your hands, b) a migraine, or c) all of the above? I would really like to talk to the idiot that designed these lids!! Actually I would like to throw a box of lids…at his/her head! YES! A new Olympic sport – throw boxes full of stupid items at their makers!

I finally get the damn lid off and pour two, make that three pills, in my hand. I pour one, make that two pills, back into the bottle. I pour out one pill and got it right this time. I swallow the two pills with some water and my stomach doesn’t like it. I want to throw up again…but I can’t…I have to keep the pills down or things will get much worse.

I swallow my welling saliva and don’t move at all for a few minutes. I start to get hot flashes and can tell this migraine is going to be oh-so-not-a-fun-one. Stupid arthritis in my neck! I have to get an ice pack for my neck. My mantra becomes ice pack…ice pack…ice pack. So I stand up again and dizzily walk to the kitchen, using walls, chairs, doorknobs for balance, and get my favorite ice pack from the freezer.

Yes, I know, it’s pathetic to have a favorite ice pack. Several of them, of different sizes and thicknesses, live in my freezer. A thick squishy one for my neck, a smaller flexible one for my ankles and wrists, one that looks like a mask for my eyes, and a really long narrow one for my lower back.

As the throbbing increases I get back to my bedroom and close the door. I lay down on my bed with the ice pack positioned against the back of my neck and skull. I stretch again to relax my tense muscles and get ready for the migraine onslaught. I imagine ice cubes and Excedrin tablets teaming up with fire extinguishers and sprays of icy water soothing the hot raging nerves in my head.

Inside my head I think I’m glad I hadn’t yet opened my curtains. I think I’m not going to get much done today after all. My stomach growls again. I think my stomach is stupid but at least it is holding down the migraine medicine. I suddenly remember what I have to get done today. Exactly when I can’t do anything about it.

Damn fibro fog.

UPDATE: My migraine finally went away and it only tooks hours! I am now experiencing “migraine hangover”, otherwise known as “postdrome”. Yeah, a funny looking word and I didn’t have any part in the naming convention.  Those of you that get migraines may know what I mean…wrung-out, no energy, don’t want to move, can’t concentrate, achy, I always feel like I’m starving afterwards but some of you may not even want to talk about food. It’s not fair. I didn’t even have fun getting this hangover! Le sigh.

This means I will be in bed today. I am still using an ice pack on my neck. My favorite one isn’t cold enough so I popped it back into the freezer and grabbed the one for my lower back. Now I just hope my lower back won’t decide to weigh in on the pain scale. Methinks I need to buy a few more ice packs.

Through necessity, I have learned how to poach eggs in the microwave so I ate one, with a slice of toast, around lunch time. I am going to try to find a good movie to watch.

I’m grateful the migraine happened today because last week about this time, the city had people in the neighborhood cutting tree branches all day long. See, today’s migraine could have been much worse.



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