Last Monday morning, I woke up feeling a little bit off. My head was pounding behind my eyes, and I couldn’t really focus at all. I had my normal meetings and pushed through them like I always do. See, my thing when I’m not feeling good is to pretend everything is okay. I don’t do the groggy voice, or the “ugh…I don’t feel good.” I try to sound as normal as possible, using all of my energy to make sure no one knows that anything is wrong.
By 12:30, though, when it was time to take Ayva to school, I knew that I wouldn’t be able to fake it anymore. I pulled around the front of the preschool, hoping to see a parent of one of Ayva’s classmates walking in so that she could go in with them and I could get home to lay down. Since I didn’t see anyone I could hand her off to without an explanation about how I was feeling, I double parked and walked her in myself, a sharp pain shooting across my forehead with every step. By the time I got back to the car, I knew I needed to text Terrence to let him know I wouldn’t be able to pick Ayva up from school three hours later. Ten minutes later, when I arrived home after a really rough drive, I texted him again that I was going to the hospital. Then I wrote him back to say I was going to try a shower because I didn’t think I’d be able to sit up in the chair at the hospital.
That’s all I remember until he arrived home.
Later on, he told me that he came in the house and looked for me in our bedroom. He didn’t see me so he ran downstairs to check my car. He came back in the house and searched again, finding me on the floor. He tried to move me, but didn’t get a response so he called for a paramedic. By the time they arrived, I was giving slight responses, but it felt like someone was swinging bricks inside my head with every move I made. The paramedics came in and moved me slowly. They helped me get downstairs, and into Terrence’s car. I couldn’t open my eyes at all by this point. Terrence drove me to the emergency room, where I waited for nearly 30 minutes. The television in the ER was on Maury Povich, and it was so loud. I felt like I was going to lose all of my body functions, and was just about to tell Terrence that I needed to leave because I couldn’t sit up anymore when I was called to the back.
It turns out I was severely dehydrated and was suffering from a migraine. The migraine was exaggerated because I was so dehydrated. In fact, I was so dehydrated that I’m still sporting a dark blue bruise on my arm because the nurse couldn’t find a vein to insert the IV. In addition to fluid to hydrate me, I was also given pain meds intravenously, and in couple of hours, was feeling much better.
Of course, later at home, I jumped online to answer emails from work that I had missed because I had to leave work early. I didn’t even fill my prescription. In fact, I still haven’t. That’s part of the reason why I’m writing about this experience. I need to be held accountable. Terrence is trying to help me to understand why it’s important to take care of myself, but I hate being…dramatic? Weak? I don’t know. I just don’t like to be sick, and taking medicine and asking for help makes me feel like I’m sickly.
I don’t know why I’m so stubborn, but I’m trying to do better. Again. So, here’s what I’m going to do this week:
1. Get my prescription filled.
The doctor suggested that I take medicine as soon as the headaches feel like they’re coming on.
2. Drink more water.
I love water, so this shouldn’t be hard. I just get so busy with work that I don’t get up to get it.
3. Turn off when it’s time to turn off.
Stress is one of the triggers for migraines. I’m going to find ways to destress and balance work and relaxing.
4. Make a follow up doctor’s appointment.
Please tell me I’m not alone with needing to take better care of myself. I was so sad to put Terrence through that scary incident, and I want to be able to be around for my family.
I vow to do better.