Tag Archives: Migraine

5 O’Clock Shadow

10 Feb
Migraine Barbie has Snapped!

Migraine Barbie has Snapped! (Photo credit: Deborah Leigh (Migraine Chick))

I was awake early this morning.  My head insisted on it.  It banged on my skull with a hammer on one side and a brick on the other and said, I’m going to your stomach next, if you don’t take some paracetamol.

It wasn’t a migraine, in spite of the nausea, because I was still able to function.

Or, it was a migraine, but Al’s tip worked: take your painkiller of choice and a shower in the face to follow.  I tried it; the ache eased.  That or, because I screw up my face so tight against the spray, the ache slipped out of my ears.  And the Hub says I’ve got nothing between them…


I’m Not Cut Out For Bad Moods

24 Sep
Migraine Barbie has Snapped!

Migraine Barbie has Snapped! (Photo credit: Deborah Leigh (Migraine Chick))

Sorry for the late joke this morning. I have an excuse.

All of that frowning over the weekend led to a migraine.  I was in bed by one in the afternoon yesterday, waking only for the occasional Migraleve and a bowl of soup from my beloved husband.  Not from him, you understand: he’s not some sort of walking chicken soup dispenser, à la hen-cow hybrid (saying cluck-moo, or coo for short. Or muck*).  He poured it from a can and warmed it in the microwave; but I appreciated the love with which he did it.

*Give me a break; I have a sore head.

I couldn’t face the computer long enough to schedule a joke.  If I can’t face the computer, you know I’m sick.  I couldn’t even face Downton Abbey.  The thought of Maltesers made me queasy.  Now do you believe me?

I wanted to try Big Al’s cure – take the tablets, then a shower, with the water spraying the face – but I couldn’t lift my head long enough to find the bathroom. Sorry, Al.  Next time, maybe.

This morning, the head is still aching, but functional.  Normal service will hopefully be resumed tomorrow.

I promise I’ll be in a good mood.  The headache says I’d better be, or else.


Re: Viv’s non-appearance to herself in the community board to the right.  

I’ve got nothing.  But I see you every day.


I’ve just checked: you’re not there.  I’m going back to bed.

Six Six-Word Saturdays

3 Sep

Another migraine.  Feeling blue.  Fed up.

Self-pity: getting good at it.

Trying to think of funny things

for you to laugh at today.

Blank.  Blank.  Blank.  Blank.  Blank.  Blank. 

That last one was cheating, yes.

To read more, please go here*. *Bonus Six Word Saturday for you.


Is It Monday?

25 Jul
Papyrus Migraine Therapy
Image via Wikipedia

I’m sorry I didn’t get to your blogs yesterday; even with the decorating I expected to be able to read them before bed.

The day turned out to be rather full:

  • Morning: church
  • Afternoon: wallpaper
  • Late Afternoon: migraine

That caught me by surprise, and was most inconvenient.  I was in bed before seven last night, having taken two Migraleve (the wonder pill!) and I slept until seven this morning.

The migraine has been reduced to a dull ache to match the aching back from being in bed so long; but I’m rather foggy this morning.  I wrote a one-minute piku about migraines for my other blog, and realised after I’d published it that I’d made a new page, not a new post.

For a while, I thought today was Tuesday.  Just going to feed the dog.  Dogs.  It’s not raining, anyway.


Postscript: I previewed this one to make sure I’d used ‘Add a new post’ and not ‘Add a new page’ this time.  I had used the correct wink/lidget thing…in my other blog.  Had to c+p it over here.

I’d better not comment anywhere until the fog clears; who knows what offence I might accidentally cause?



An Open Letter To Gwyneth Rees, MailOnline Reporter

15 Mar

I am furious.

My husband has severe CFS/ME, and has had it since 1996.  I read your article in MailOnline.  You, Gwyneth Rees, gleefully suggest that your readers should use the new Skiver app to come up with a suitable illness to get a day off work:

You could just have a one-day migraine, for instance, or you may be struck down with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, accompanied by severe headaches, high fever, stiff neck and sore throat. Poor you.

I get that it is a light-hearted piece but it is inappropriate and insensitive to CFS sufferers – and they do suffer, believe me; I see it every day, pain etched into my husband’s face.  Try substituting Cancer/Multiple Sclerosis/AIDS for CFS in that quote, and see how many cheap laughs you get.  (And before you accuse me of being as flippant as you, a random search for ‘List of chronic illnesses’ threw up all of those and CFS, every time.)

I wonder how many migraine sufferers find your comment amusing?  Incidentally, migraine is one of the many symptoms CFS patients have to deal with.  Try having that on top of arthralgia, light sensitivity, noise sensitivity, dizziness, nausea, sleep of such poor quality that all it gives is a respite from the daily grind of simply existing, and, of course, fatigue, which is not simply a case of feeling over-tired after a busy day, but prevents you from getting out of bed on your worst days and gives you an hour on your best day, if you’re lucky, in which to do the thousand things your brain wants to do – because there’s nothing wrong with your mind – but of which your body is incapable.

This is not a comprehensive list of CFS symptoms, by the way; merely the most prevalent in my husband’s case.  Every sufferer is different. 

Your article was crass and irresponsible and you bring shame on your profession.


An Apology From The Blog Owner

3 May








Quiet, Please

5 Apr

Today’s post is written in a whisper because the poor Hub is having the migraine of his life. He is feeling miserable and there’s nothing we can do to help.  He has some medication for it but it clashes with his anti-inflammatories so his joints will flare up.  He says it’s a more bearable pain than the migraine.  On the bright side, he gave me material for today’s poem.  He’ll be so pleased.  I know I am, because I have been struggling with this one.  I read today that ‘Love is a kind of military service’ and for the Hub that’s kind of true: he answers to a commander who makes him do stuff he doesn’t want to do; is paid very little for the privilege; and is expected to sacrifice himself if necessary for the good of the unit.  That’s what he’s done here; isn’t he good?

Spud is also unwell today, full of a cold and feeling miserable.  This is a sick house, as my friends often tell me.



Yesterday’s prompt was ‘inside out’.



Brain beating my skull,

begging once more for release. 

Migraines: no parole.



And here’s one I wrote a while ago that I think fits the bill:



I need the skin I’m in:
skin keeps intestines in.
Without a doubt
they’d all fall out
and I’d be nowt
without what’s deep within.


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