Walking hunched up like a terrified rescue dog, I’m trying to ignore the pain reverberating in my head. It’s a day that I should be reading on the couch, but I have things to get done. They’re small, quiet activities, like packaging up some books I sold through Amazon and moving the basil plant I just bought outside. But this damn pain has me in its grip.
Finally I give in and make some tea. Caffeine might knock it down enough for me to put books in envelopes. The kettle on the stove, I’m struck with a brilliant idea — take some Advil. While no other painkiller or headache abortive does much for me, a small dose of an NSAID, like Advil or Aleve, often brings my headaches down a notch or two.
Yet I rarely take any meds. Whether this is a tough-girl complex or fear of rebound, I don’t know. It’s not like I need to prove to myself that I can handle the pain; that’s confirmed for me every single day. Nor do I have any history of rebound headaches.
I like to think that I save the drugs for when I’m on vacation or have plans with friends. Or when my head is so bad that all I can do is lie in bed and moan. Those aren’t the motivators either. I’m just conditioned to not take meds. Maybe it’s so I have something to be proud of.
Today I don’t have to pretend I’m tough. I take the Advil and drink the tea (and get bonus antioxidants!). I’m still waiting for relief. I may have gotten too far into the migraine for it to make a difference. It’s time to lose myself in a light, fluffy book.
I wrote this yesterday but wasn’t up to posting. After resting and reading for a couple hours, I did feel better. Probably just the course of the headache and not the painkillers or caffeine. In any case, I got the books ready to mail and the basil outside.