Migraine and Rain

It started out as stressful Tuesday.  Everything blew up, got lost, ran out, shut down, and wasn't ready this morning.  My head started hurting before school started, but because it was a low-grade pain, I ignored it thinking that it would loosen up as the day went on. You really would think I'd know better by now, wouldn't you?

A missed planning period kept the pressure twisting, and outside, the weather patterns were shifting into something horrible.  By the time we got to the end of third period, the pain was intense.  I tried using acupressure points, lowering the temperature, and so forth, but nothing did any good. Fourth period came in, got settled, and I took a Maxalt. 

Usually Maxalt will stop migraines for me.  It has been very effective.  Today, however, it did nothing.  It could have been peppermint for all the good it did me.  I was doubled over and crying by the middle of the period.  I've never had that happen in class.  The students in that tiny little class cut the lights off, and I sent one to go get my administrator.  I called somebody to come get me, and I started packing up.  I had to leave.

My advisory class came in and it was terrible.  The lights were cut back on.  One of the kids actually said that he was glad I had a headache so they didn't have to write an essay today.  I know they're young, but really, how insensitive can a person be?  There I was with pain so bad I couldn't see, and then there was that...

I wound up being sort of half-carried downstairs by the nurse and security to sit in the nurse's office and wait for my ride.  I napped until he could get there, and then I finally got home.  I took a phenergan and slept for six hours.  Now I'm up to eat dinner, etc. The pain is finally gone. 

My doctor is finally going to refer me out to another neurologist.  I don't know that there is anything that can be done, really, but after seeing the non-existent thing on the floor last month and this now, I think I need to get the gray matter checked out.  That probably means a wonderful trip into the claustrophobia-inducing MRI hellbox, but I'm just not going to think about that right now.  They can just drug me well and do what they need to.