“I’m going to be angry if I don’t get a migraine tonight,” I told Hart Friday night. Those are words I never thought I’d say, but I’d been looking forward to that night’s local music festival for months and I didn’t want to have missed it because I’d guessed incorrectly about an impending migraine.
I stayed home because I was feeling “off” and a storm was rolling into town, which is a pretty reliable migraine trigger for me. Usually I’d go anyway, especially if I’d been doing OK most of the day, like I was Friday, but the tickets were expensive and I loathed the thought of fighting through the crowd to leave and then riding in the car for 30 minutes with a migraine.
I’d done the math and the dithering all afternoon and made what I thought was the right decision. When the migraine didn’t come Friday night, I felt like I’d cheated myself out of a great time because of fear. I wanted to embrace my choice with confidence, but the doubt remained: Maybe I was taking care of myself and being appropriately cautious, maybe I missed out by giving into fear.
I’ve been running my mind in circles, trying to figure out how I could have made a better decision Friday (and by “better decision” I mean one that would have gotten me to the music festival). Then Tuesday came along and I felt pretty good, so Hart and I went to a baseball game. At the game I realized that I had used all the available information to make the best decision I could on Friday. There’s no way to make perfect decisions with an unpredictable illness.
Sometimes I’ll got to the show and get a migraine, sometimes I’ll feel just fine. Sometimes I’ll stay home and feel OK, sometimes I’ll have a migraine. Sometimes I’ll go to the game and catch my first foul ball, like I did on Tuesday.
“Like” The Daily Headache on Facebook to see a picture of Hart and me with my foul ball.