Living with a Chronic Migraine Disorder
I'm five days into the longest streak I have had without a migraine since my surgery in December. I am hoping that this is progress and a good indicator that the new medicine I am on is doing its job well. I am sure that it is also the result of many prayers being asked my behalf.
Having a chronic migraine disorder has been humiliating, frustrating, and often downright humbling. At its worst, I am disabled from doing much that I would like to do, and at its best, I find myself living with a sense of apprehension not knowing when the next wave will hit. It has stripped me from being as consistent as I would like to be and has ripped away any false sense of security I used to have.
This past Monday, I was driving our truck back home following Bryan who was in our new "old car" we had just purchased. It had been a great day. The kids were happy with family. We had spent time together talking and enjoying a quieter day than usual. Though I had started to feel tired, I didn't feel particularly different than usual.
All of the sudden, I went from feeling very safe and capable driving on the interstate to feeling completely off and frightened. I knew right away what was happening. I was having a migraine attack. I pulled over at a rest station and called Bryan to let him know. I decided to try to keep driving home, because I was a good ways off still. I couldn't figure out how to get both vehicles home otherwise.
The farther I drove the more I struggled. My head began to feel like it was imploding. I took the medicine I had on hand and stopped to get a coffee. I drove more slowly than usual to try to be safer with my senses off. I prayed that God would help me to get home.
By the time I pulled in our driveway, my vision had completely blurred in my left eye. I knew I had pushed too far. I should have just called for Bryan to come get me and waited at a gas station. It's not easy to make a call like that. It's easy to minimize in the moment and realize how dangerous it could have been later. I wanted to sob when I got out of the truck. I was so frustrated and scared all at the same time.
For the past year, I have hardly driven at all. We thought I was finally at the point where I could drive again, but honestly, I will be slow to do it again now.
As much as I resent having my wings clipped and being reliant upon others for transportation, I am learning to trust God with my current disability instead of flailing my arms at Him and bemoaning my lot.
Slowing down isn't bad. I'm learning that I can manage a smaller world better. I literally can't meet every social obligation that is out there, because I don't have a way to get there anymore. That's okay. Real, deep community doesn't die in hardship- it grows. That's what I want to invest in.
Jesus is still the same- even if I change from day to day. He is the healing I need. He is truer than any physical relief I could ever experience in this lifetime. Jesus is all satisfying and good. If Jesus slows me down, it's for a good reason. I can trust in Him.