Home early
I woke up with a terrible headache, a deeply felt pressure on the top of my head. I went to work, because that's what I do, and I figured I would get some pain meds and it would go away, and I only had 2 meetings today so I could DO THINGS - and that's very rare right now, so I didn't want to miss it. Except the pain meds didn't work. It dulled it, but it was still bad. And it's expanded, down the side of my head, encompassing my scar and "dent". I'm ok otherwise - the flare died down after a quiet, fun weekend spent with family, and while there's a ghost of that, it's really nothing at all.
I just kept quiet and kept my head down (literally - it hurts so much that I'm walking around with my shoulders hunched up and my head ducked down, like it might lessen the pain if I lower my head, maybe whatever is pressing on it will ease up a bit) and made it through to the really important meeting at 3pm, and then I came home.
It's not a migraine - light doesn't hurt, I don't have any visual auras. It's not sinus - it hurts equally sitting and standing and lying down. It's just a headache. And it kinda sucks.
But what really sucks is the reactions when someone asks what's wrong. Or when I told Glenn. Or even in my own head. When do I stop thinking, when does everyone stop thinking, "what if"? I'm stuck here alone tonight, and I just want someone to take care of me. The puppies are all cuddled up even though it's 80 degrees out, maybe they are trying.
Strangely enough there's suddenly been a shower of reminders about my tumor and the surgery - people from a support group trying to friend me on Facebook (for the record, no thank you - these particular people live and breathe this, they have become their tumor, their lives have become their tumor, whether still intact or not - I cannot have that in my life), mentions in a Fibro email group I'm part of, and another blog post from someone I enjoy reading about how now, a year later, she's still not feeling "normal".
So maybe that's it. I'm almost 2 years out. People on the boards are much further out that that. Maybe you never stop wondering.
I just took 3 Advil. Please please let this help a bit. =/
I just kept quiet and kept my head down (literally - it hurts so much that I'm walking around with my shoulders hunched up and my head ducked down, like it might lessen the pain if I lower my head, maybe whatever is pressing on it will ease up a bit) and made it through to the really important meeting at 3pm, and then I came home.
It's not a migraine - light doesn't hurt, I don't have any visual auras. It's not sinus - it hurts equally sitting and standing and lying down. It's just a headache. And it kinda sucks.
But what really sucks is the reactions when someone asks what's wrong. Or when I told Glenn. Or even in my own head. When do I stop thinking, when does everyone stop thinking, "what if"? I'm stuck here alone tonight, and I just want someone to take care of me. The puppies are all cuddled up even though it's 80 degrees out, maybe they are trying.
Strangely enough there's suddenly been a shower of reminders about my tumor and the surgery - people from a support group trying to friend me on Facebook (for the record, no thank you - these particular people live and breathe this, they have become their tumor, their lives have become their tumor, whether still intact or not - I cannot have that in my life), mentions in a Fibro email group I'm part of, and another blog post from someone I enjoy reading about how now, a year later, she's still not feeling "normal".
So maybe that's it. I'm almost 2 years out. People on the boards are much further out that that. Maybe you never stop wondering.
I just took 3 Advil. Please please let this help a bit. =/