Warning implosion Imminent. I am a barometer (no I am not delusional). I have an actual barometer up on my bookshelves to prove it. Everytime with absolute consistency, when the pressure shoots up really high or does a quick change on that barometer, I get an “Implosion Imminent” headache. This particular headache makes me want to scream for someone to drill a hole in my skull so that whatever is pressing on my brain will drain out and I can feel like me again.
If you are a subscribed to my blog, you probably noticed an email with a post link, that if you clicked to read it, the post wasn’t there. I have to blame this on the pressure as well. I decided to delete it, as my usual pretty darn happy mood becomes a “I hate what I wrote” mood…a “hate lots of things” mood.
I learned recently that the contents of my neck, including my spinal cord are a bit of a mess…extreme narrowing of the spinal canal, severe intremittent spinal cord compression and some degnerative disc disease mixed in. Most likely the cause of this headache is a build up of cerebral spinal fluid pushing on my brain, due to the swelling of my neck parts not letting much of the fluid flow downward.
Today my son and his family move in. I have been feeling not only peaceful about this the last couple days, but am finding myself looking forward to this new adventure we are all going to share. I do not want to have this headache today. I never want to have it, but today is a worse day than usual to have it. My granddaughter is going to need me to hang out with her while her mom and dad move in and I want to be able to smile back at her when she smiles at me…
A side effect that accompanies this headache is grumpiness if you haven’t figured that out by now. I’m not usually a “grumpy” sort, but oh I am when my head is imploding. I just asked my husband for a metaphor that describes me when I’m in the midst of one of these headaches. The first word out of his mouth I can not write because this is a PG blog. Hint, it starts with a B.
Okay, perhaps it is a good thing I deleted the previous post–it was all poetic and philosophical and not at all in line with my “status” today. (Funny how that word now belongs to Facebook). Watch out Facebook I’ll start grumbling about you too.
I’m keeping it real today. Real is this pain makes me feel that I am on the cuspid of going insane or at least driving everyone around me into insanity. Feel free to share, if you’re a barometer, if you have severe pressure headaches, if you have similar spinal cord compression or know someone who does, or are in off the scale pain in a place other than your head and just need to vent.
I want to apologize for my grumbly grouchy complaining…but I’m going to hold myself back and keep it real. Grumpy but sincere wishes that your weekend does not take you into levels of pain that provoke non-PG metaphors. This headache will pass and when it does comfort will feel awesome. That’s the flip-side (for real) of pain; comfort feels awesome!
I don’t normally feel “gray” and find it hard to share when I do. I am feeling “gray”. The reality of ME/CFS for me is the mimicking neurologically of progressive MS. When the muscle weakness (which includes breathing muscles), struggles with coordination and immobility are high, when too much physical pain joins in from other conditions such as Interstitial Cystitits and Gastroparesis, it can get to me. I am in this physical situation right now; its getting to me.
It is difficult for my family, as they feel helpless and often have to help me move, which includes setting me up in a position that helps me breathe. I feel bad that what I go through effects them. I tend to be a finder of silver linings, and “finding the funny”. I usually find them, but right now they are hiding from me. So instead I’m in the cloud around a silver-lining.
In the essay I posted below, the metaphor of the color wheel reminds me that its okay to feel all the colors…all the emotions that go along with having a serious and sometimes scary illness (and for all of us who share the human condition, with the loss, pain and adversity that it holds). It is so easy to judge myself when I am finger painting with “gray” paint. I am in the midst of that judgment.
I am realizing that it feels incredibly vulnerable to post in “gray”…
Ghalib writes of rain and weather as metaphors for experiencing and accepting life fully; for the pain that often must be endured to do so. I wrote my most recent post about changing weather worsening chronic illness/pain; finding this poem today feels like a gift in timing.
Ghalib’s rain drop experiences unbearable pain in order to become the river. As drops of rain fall on the fire-red Japanese maple leaves outside our living room window, I can’t help but smile and see them (and my own weather- flared physical pain) through Ghalib’s wise poetic eyes.
For the Raindrop
by, Ghalib
For the raindrop-joy is in entering the river—
Unbearable pain becomes it’s own cure.
Travel far enough into sorrow, tears turn to sighing;
In this way we learn how water can die into air.
When, after heavy rain, the stormclouds disperse,
Is it not that they’ve wept themselves clear to the end?
If you want to know a miracle, how wind can polish a mirror,
Look: the shiney glass grows green in spring.
It’s the roses unfolding, Ghalib, that creates the desire to see—
In every color and circumstance, may the eyes be open for what comes.
*Ghalib was a 19th century Persian poet.
