I think my life got to me.  Just go to me. People all around me are aging…myself, included.

Just to rewind a bit, my mother was found to have macular degeneration by my ophthalmologist who sent her to a retina specialist. It was a long, tough day which lasted a good four hours. During that time, interviews took place, photos were taken and diagnosis were made. And the diagnosis was that my mother is now legally blind in the worse eye, and in need of treatment in the better one. Treatment for her better, “wet-macular-degeneration-eye” is a shot…in the eye. You heard me, don’t cringe. That’s what they do to deal with all that is going on in there and I won’t say too much, but a chemical is needed in the eye to stem the bleeding of the retina. My mother pulled through like she went through a battle.

Of course this is not the only thing going on in my life, if I told you, you would really cringe. There was enough at that time to make me however nuts, stressed, and overwhelmed. Sometimes I forget that I have my own “stuff.” And then, how can I forget?

On Tuesday I was up and ready to go to my biofeedback session for my on-going migraine issues. There are times when I awaken with a headache and I could feel something was coming, but on top of it I was hit with a bad case of vertigo (I was told by a specialist this was part of migraine.) Just like my mother I soldiered on, got to my appointment with help, sat through a therapeutic section of “Sleepless in Seattle,*” and was served up a scintillating scotoma–one of those vision things I get that interferes with sight. It dissipated reasonably fast but then another one took over. (None of this is out of the ordinary.)

[*the reference to “Sleepless in Seattle as therapy is true: biofeedback is frequently done with movie clips]

After my session, however,  I was beyond exhausted, the headache was returning, and my right side was beginning to go numb. (This does happen). But now my language area was not pumping out words and I was getting scared. Mind you, there are plenty of folks who have experienced this, but how do you know you are not having a stroke? You don’t.

P.S. it was felt the best thing for me at that point was THE HOSPITAL. Up came a bunch of nice-looking police officers to take me to a waiting ambulance. I remember walking to the ambulance, getting onto a gurney and not being fully able to provide information. Nothing I said sounded correct.

And then I was in a hospital. A nice Emergency Room. It seemed well run. Eventually, I was answering questions. Language was coming back. My right side was no longer numb. Still, I was there four hours. A C-T Scan and blood work were, “normal.” I have never had an “abnormal” test result.

Welcome to the world of MIGRAINE. A world I never realized I was a part of until recently, although as a child I constantly was suffering with headaches.

That night I slept about fifteen hours. I have been plain tired ever since. In fact, I have been plain tired even before. It might have been that the thought of just dealing with myself and no one else’s problems for a few hours was a welcome change. But a hospital is no vacation. Sorry if I sound flip but I am so used to all of this migraine insanity and I can’t believe in this day and age there is literally “no cure.”

If there is a next time, please, someone, take me to a spa.