The Migraine

For most women, the twenty-eight-day cycle involves, amongst other, an episode of PMS. For me, it’s migraines. Although I will not go as fare as to pretend that the former does not affect me, I will say for sure that if it does, it goes unnoticed in the torment caused by the latter.

Yesterday was one of those days. I am at work and there is no way I can go home. Suddenly a pain rip my head like a sharp letter opener through a tin envelop. Oh shit, a migraine! An aura of jagged light appears to the left of my peripheral vision. It’s going to be a nasty one. In no time, my field of vision has shrunk to the size of a pencil, everything becomes blurred, my computer screen glares at me; it feels like pin needles in the eyes. I feel nauseous. My head pounds to the rhythm of “We Will Rock You”. The lyrics cycle with each surge of blood in my temples. I try to massage them where the pain seesaws, a vain attempt at bringing them back to health. I feel my shoulders slouch and my mouth open like a panting dog. The noise around the office increases exponentially by the minute, my neck is getting stiff, I can barely move my head, not that I would even if I could, my lower back is starting to hurt and a film of cold sweat is forming between my shoulder blades. By then, I know I have about five minutes left in me. I get off my chair and sway towards the bathroom until something scorched right through my stomach and then, I break into a race. I get to the bathroom and threw up. Usually I feel much better after that, not this time. I get a bottle of cold water from the distributing machine and put it against my forehead. Swallowing hurts. I look like a sleepwalker, there is only one hour left before I go home. Obviously no more work will get done today. I sit down at my desk and watch the minute hand go around the clock.

When I got home, I fell into a blackout, the unendurable crest of pain, the electrical sawing, buzzing, drilling pain that must come from my neighbor’s apartment, as it would be impossible for the mere cranium to erupt with such force, impossible, alas true. For an hour or two, I laid on my bed without opening my eyes to the pain of the street light, unable to get up and close the blinds or kick my shoes off. Exhausted, I eventually lost myself to sleep.

This morning I called in sick.