lifting.

I'm not sure what's been going on with my body lately, but it has been Full Of The Pains. If it's not IBS or horrible cramps or "borderline fibromyalgia" {yes, that's a new one, diagnosed as of this Monday}...

...it's migraines.

KILLER migraines. To the point where I literally want to remove my head and place it as far away from my body as possible in the hopes that somehow the time-space continuum will allow me to not be in agony. Alas, I have not figured out how to do that yet, but when I do, I'm calling The Today Show.

That photo of me on the left was taken yesterday at 5:45 p.m. Which was 23.5 hours after my migraine first made its unwelcome appearance. Excruciating pain. Akin to a burning hot rod being plunged back and forth, in and out, this way and that, on the top left of my head. 

And this happens about two or three times a month.

Usually, I have a Rx for these bad boys. But, wouldn't you know it, when I ran out a couple of months ago, I learned that my medication had been discontinued. Of course! It was inexpensive and it worked. Yes! Let's discontinue it! Because we, the drug companies, aren't making enough money off it! Yes! Let's!

And so, my darling doctor gave me some samples. I tried them. One worked. Hooray! She called in the prescription on Monday after my appointment with her {yes, the one in which I was diagnosed as having "borderline firbromyalgia"--whatever that means}, but the pharmacy called shortly after and said they'd have to order it and that it wouldn't be in until Tuesday.

"No worries!" I told them, a smile in my voice. Because my migraine hadn't hit yet. "I don't need it right away."

Except, I did.

Because two hours later, it hit.

And Advil doesn't touch it. And ice doesn't help. And closing my eyes and turning off all noise is pointless. 

And so I lay on my bed immediately after work, in agony. For hours. I missed an important phone call {I'm looking at you, AS} because of it. I eventually fell asleep, but woke again at 1:30 a.m. And wept. And clutched. And wept some more. Then I suddenly remembered that I had some Excedrin Migraine at the bottom of my purse, the little white pills spilled all over the lining because the cap of the bottle fell off. The pills took a tiny bit of the edge off, enough to go to sleep, but All Manner of Agony returned the next morning.

I went to work...I don't know how.

But I left an hour early. Headed to the pharmacy, hoping the Rx my doctor called in would be ready. It was. But I couldn't get it.

$100 for nine pills. With my insurance.

I wanted to cry. And throw up. You know, between the pain and the disappointment. 

But luckily, a very nice pharmacy intern recommended a cheaper drug, called my doctor to see if she'd approve, and I finally--FINALLY--got relief a couple hours later for the bargain price of $8.

That photo of me on the right? That is what the lifting of pain feels like. Peaceful. Tranquil. 

I cannot express to you, dear reader, what it felt like when that pain...just...stopped.

Lifting. So much of my pain is finally lifting.