The Boy Scouts have a saying (or at least they did when I was there earning my merit badges while backpacking with leeches) which is “be prepared”. The idea is to hope for the best but plan for the worst. Don’t head off into the wilderness without a bottle of water, some high-calorie snacks, a box of matches, a map, and yeah… nah… no hairdryer required!
Being a migraine person is a bit the same. You can’t just “wing it” when you head off into the wilderness that is your local park, public transport, or place of work… tame places for “normal” people, I know, but environments which are actually fraught with migraine-inducing-triggers.
For example – if the sun is up; you have to take a hat and sunglasses to combat the glare… I’ve even heard of people who wear visors indoors to keep some of the ceiling-light off their faces.
You absolutely must take an emotional-support-water-bottle with you wherever you go… and maybe two (one plain, one with vitamin supplements melted in… and maybe even a sports drink for added electrolytes wouldn’t hurt if you’ve got room in your handbag!)
I for one, don’t leave home without my peppermint-lavender essential oil roll-on.
If it’s a long car trip I’m signing up for, then, I’m sorry to say, but I might also be sliding into your side seat with a plastic bag and a towel in case my nausea` troubles me… which I guess by default, will trouble you…
Oh, and then of course there’s the medications… my version of “be prepared” means that I keep the family’s prescriptions in one place in a kitchen cupboard on a high shelf (which was designed to be hard to get to… but now that my children are teenagers… I’m the only one who has to stand on tip-toe to get up there!). In addition to the “main place”, I also have all my regular preventative medications (which I take each day) in my bathroom near my toothbrush so they don’t get forgotten. Then there’s the meds in my handbag, and the ones in the car’s glovebox… my bedside table is a bit of a pharmacy come to think about it… I have an emergency tablet cut out of its wrapper in the back of my phone case… and I have been known to pop an extra sheet of tablets into the back pocket of my jeans…
Over the top? Perhaps… but here’s the thing – a migraine is a neurological condition… not just a bad headache. When a migraine kicks in – (and as a smarty-pants person, I hate to say this) – it’s as if you lose a few IQ points in an instant. When the pain really kicks in, it becomes literally disabling – you – just – can’t – think – straight – or – at – all.
In my worst migraine, a Number 10 on my Pain Scale, I have vague recollections of crawling around on the floor trying to phone 911 for an ambulance on the TV remote control… which was never going to work – because in Australia you call 000… and because… you know… it was a TV remote.
So, here’s the thing – you can have a great “emergency plan” for what you’re going to do when a migraine starts; “take a tablet, call the neighbor to get the kids after school, head home to sleep it off…” AND none of that can happen… you may well end up vomiting in the bushes, sleeping in the backseat of your car, and trying to remember whether you did or did not take a tablet already…
It’s not your fault.
You’re not confused, or lazy, or disorganized – you’re unlucky that you’re sick with a really rotten migraine.
That’s why you have to be REALLY prepared. You need to have your medication close by and in an obvious location, so that there’s no stumbling around the house at midnight or tipping your handbag on the sidewalk scrounging…
If your migraines have dramatic side-effects, you might want to consider a medical alert. Perhaps not a “help I’ve fallen and can’t get up” sort of push-button… but a keyring or bangle that you can point to if you can’t speak.
[It might sound unlikely, but hemiplegic migraines (my type) can cause a response that looks like you’re having a stroke – and you can’t talk or walk properly].
When my children were first born, I was worried that I might be out pushing the pram one day and have a stroke-like-migraine and not be able to tell people what was wrong. So, I organized medical alert tabs (with an explanation and contact numbers on it). I popped one on my car-keys and another on the strap of my handbag. It cost almost nothing but brought me a huge amount of peace of mind.
So, if you’re a fellow “sicko” like me – be prepared – but extra prepared, because when you get sick, your brain ain’t gonna brain.
Take care taking care, Linda x
PS – I went looking on a popular retail website that always makes me laugh when I look at the adds… (it tried to sell me a headache once (here)) – and bless its digital heart… it was good for a laugh yet again (sorry diabatics – I’m not laughing at you):

[189 sold???]


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