Headaches, Migraines, and Xanax
About ten years ago, I had the frightening experience of seeing diamond shaped objects zig-zagging across my field of vision. It was distracting enough that I couldn't read or drive. I called my doctor. Her primary concern was that I might have had a transient ischemic attack, or mini-stroke. After lots of tests, they found no evidence of a stroke. It was a migraine. I've had a few more of them over the years; one of them was the dreaded "vomiting migraine" where I had to stay in my bedroom, in the dark, lying still until it passed. I still get the occasional migraine, but I recognize it and it doesn't frighten me.
I have always had headaches, even when I was a child. I remember coming home from school with my head aching so much that I had to lie down before I could eat dinner or attack my homework. This went on and got worse through the years. I regret all the time that I missed with my family because I had to rest and have my "alone time" until the headache subsided.
When the headaches got so bad that I was struggling to get through a day, I dragged my sorry self to a neurologist. This doctor made it clear that he honest to God wanted to hear about my day. He said, "Let's just sit here for a while and talk about your day. How does it begin? What happens? How does it end?" At that time, I had the misfortune of working with a truly horrible woman who seemed to take great joy in making everyone around her suffer. She was brutal; even the kindest, sweetest colleagues lost their tempers with this woman. I hate to admit it, but I cried after one of our confrontations. CRIED!!! at work!!! Because of this woman, I was looking into other employment when I finally got to the neurologist. I told him everything about my day, particularly about the effect the bitch was having one me. (I don't know if I actually said "bitch," but it is accurate and appropriate.) He sat there, calmly, listening to me, not interrupting me, just hearing what I was telling him.
That doctor changed my life. I'm being very honest here: he suggested that my anxiety level had reached the point where I was making myself sick. He prescribed Xanax. I suppose some people might be ashamed to admit that they needed Xanax to get through life, but I am not ashamed. The very day I began my Xanax prescription, I noticed something very unusual. I was driving home from work, and my head didn't hurt!!! My head didn't hurt at all. It was like a miracle. I didn't have to take a nap before I cooked dinner. I didn't have to tell my family that I needed to be alone before I could engage with them.
I haven't needed Xanax for a while. I'm retired; I get to choose what I want to do and with whom I want to spend my time. I am grateful that I am not dependent on any drugs but Synthroid, but I am also grateful for the doctor who diagnosed my anxiety and the root of my severe headaches. He gave me my life back.
I have always had headaches, even when I was a child. I remember coming home from school with my head aching so much that I had to lie down before I could eat dinner or attack my homework. This went on and got worse through the years. I regret all the time that I missed with my family because I had to rest and have my "alone time" until the headache subsided.
When the headaches got so bad that I was struggling to get through a day, I dragged my sorry self to a neurologist. This doctor made it clear that he honest to God wanted to hear about my day. He said, "Let's just sit here for a while and talk about your day. How does it begin? What happens? How does it end?" At that time, I had the misfortune of working with a truly horrible woman who seemed to take great joy in making everyone around her suffer. She was brutal; even the kindest, sweetest colleagues lost their tempers with this woman. I hate to admit it, but I cried after one of our confrontations. CRIED!!! at work!!! Because of this woman, I was looking into other employment when I finally got to the neurologist. I told him everything about my day, particularly about the effect the bitch was having one me. (I don't know if I actually said "bitch," but it is accurate and appropriate.) He sat there, calmly, listening to me, not interrupting me, just hearing what I was telling him.
That doctor changed my life. I'm being very honest here: he suggested that my anxiety level had reached the point where I was making myself sick. He prescribed Xanax. I suppose some people might be ashamed to admit that they needed Xanax to get through life, but I am not ashamed. The very day I began my Xanax prescription, I noticed something very unusual. I was driving home from work, and my head didn't hurt!!! My head didn't hurt at all. It was like a miracle. I didn't have to take a nap before I cooked dinner. I didn't have to tell my family that I needed to be alone before I could engage with them.
I haven't needed Xanax for a while. I'm retired; I get to choose what I want to do and with whom I want to spend my time. I am grateful that I am not dependent on any drugs but Synthroid, but I am also grateful for the doctor who diagnosed my anxiety and the root of my severe headaches. He gave me my life back.
I have a reasonably accurate idea, of just who the ************** ******** , *************, who caused you so pain and sorrow is, she did it to me too.
ReplyDeleteEric, I am certain this is the same person. Horrible, destructive soul crusher!!! But, we survived; we are stronger.
Delete
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