November 08, 2010
The One-Footed Bird On My Head
Having just turned 41, and with my current lifestyle, I am now most likely closer to my death than I am to my birth. So it's about time that I start crabbing about my failing health. And since my I Had My Appendix, Six Inches of Intestine and a Mass the Size of an Orange Removed from My Abdomen story is now more than six years old, I'm going to crab about my headaches.
I was never really a headache person until recently. Sure, I got stomach flu at least once a year, and I got a sinus infection every November, but I never got a headaches unless they were from dry-heaving or infected sinuses. (Wow, this post didn't take long to get really disgusting, did it?)
Since marrying Husband, I've only hurled once, I think, and only had one sinus infection. However, I've developed these nagging headaches. Now, don't read too much into that. I'm not insinuating that Husband is the cause of my headaches. Let's face it -- it's probably PhD Boss.
Or more likely, it's the neck injury I sustained while hauling tree branches -- what, two years ago now? It's just never healed and stayed healed. And I feel like the slightest little thing brings it back to life.
It starts as a tightness in my shoulders, either from sitting hunched over a computer all day, or from cleaning my entire house in one day like a crazy person. Sadly, neither of these events are what you would call infrequent.
Then my neck gets sore on the left side, and I have trouble turning my head. Inevitably, the headache starts -- a dull ache all over my skull, at first.
The real joy comes when the vague, all-over pain becomes very concentrated on the left side of my head, like a steel cable, going from my left eyebrow over the left side of my head, down the back of the left side of my neck, and into the muscle on the top of my left shoulder. It's so bad that my head, neck and shoulder are so tender, I can't even touch them.
And it's exactly the same every time. Like a giant bird of prey, perched on my head, but he's missing his right foot.
This time, it lasted from Friday morning through Sunday afternoon. In fact, my neck is still very sore as I write this, but at least the pain is gone from my head.
And I can hardly stomach the level of whining of doing here, but I'm secretly hoping that someone will comment and say, "I/my sister/my cousin/my boss had the same thing, and this is how to get rid of it!"
I tried chiropractic therapy (i.e. the loving hands of Dr. Hottie), and that certainly improved things. At least my left arm doesn't hurt or go numb anymore, scaring me into driving myself to the E.R. because I think I'm having a grabber. And when my neck started acting up again, I had Bowen Therapy, which was awesome and had a seriously corrective effect on my posture. Not a twinge in the neck for weeks!
But then The Spare came to spend the night, and as is the way with fearless four-year old boys, he hurt himself. I picked him up and ouch. Why, hello, Mr. Burning Neck Tendon. I didn't miss you at all. Why did you come back?
All last week, I felt the lead-up to The Main Event. My shoulders hurt. My neck was more and more stiff each morning. Finally, the raptor dug it's talons into my head Friday morning, and didn't let up until Sunday afternoon.
Let's be honest, that's kind of a ridiculously long time to have a headache. And since Headache = No Cooky & No Cleany from Wenchie, Husband has started to nag me about calling my doctor to make an appointment.
And I really should stop being such a guy about it and just schedule a damn appointment. The thing is -- I don't want to. See, I know lots of people who suffer from headaches/migraines/whathaveyou, and I've never known a doctor visit to be some miracle cure for them. I guess, even though I love my G.P., I have very little faith in the medical community as a whole to cure headaches.
I'm afraid that they'll want to dose me up with some expensive drug whose most common side effects include searing gas pain and loss of the ability to match pitch. Or worse -- they'll want to do surgery. I can't have that, people. Because neck and/or back surgery always leads to more neck and/or back surgery, prescription painkillers, addiction and finally, death by accidental overdose. How lame.
So, yes, I am officially one of those idiots who doesn't go to the doctor because I'm afraid to know what's wrong with me, and I'm just going to suffer until I die of a brain tumor. Lame and stupid.
And at my funeral, the pastor will say, "You know, Wenchie always loved doing her Arnold Schwarzenegger impression -- It's not a tumor. And ironically, it was a tumor. Please turn to hymn number 327."
Okay, I was wrong -- that'd be kind of awesome.
Comments
OK, you KNOW what I'm gonna say.....don't you?
You absolutely must go see my beloved chiro, Dr. P!!!!
I could go on and on....for real, Wenchie, he is the best. Let's chat about this, you should not feel this way for days at a time and fear surgery. Dr. P would agree with your view that surgery always leads to more, be it pills, side effects, all that. I know you have your Dr. Hottie, but if you are willing to see someone else.....let me know.
I know it would help you.
Posted by: Diane Schmidt at November 8, 2010 06:31 AM
Take this post to your doctor, then ask if a neurologist could help. Maybe not a miracle, but at least a neuro knows more about the head than a GP. In fact, because of my epilepsy, I probably know more about neurology than a GP.
Good luck and call the doctor!
-L.
Posted by: Lori at November 8, 2010 11:44 AM
Awwwwwwwwwww, you guys care about me!
Posted by: Wenchie at November 8, 2010 05:54 PM
I can't relate, but the last few lines made me think of a tombstone I saw in a picture somewhere: "I told you I was sick"
Posted by: Lola at November 8, 2010 11:12 PM