A Little Human Touch…

So maybe having someone hug me, hold me, talk to me, or stroke my hair is particularly soothing during a migraine attack mainly because I am an extraordinarily affectionate person to begin with. But I just wanted to say how incredible it is to have others' support while I'm feeling awful.

Covering up the truth about migraine

I've mentioned before that I don't always tell people what's going on with me, health-wise: "Oh, I'm just tired." "Oh, I have a lot of work to do." "Oh, something came up - I'm just not going to be able to make it." In recent months, I've really tried to tell friends the truth as to what's going on in my brain: chaotic, throbbing pain.

Recent support I've found

To my relief and joy, people have been supportive. Here are just a few snippets of what some exceptional people have contributed to my life lately, causing me to smile and helping the pain be just a little less sharp.

An effort to understand

My friend R. learned about my migraine disease several weeks ago during a chat over beers. He has turned out to be incredibly supportive of my search for new methods to help my pain. Some things he's done? Well, he told me he would give me his head if he could. (Silly, but the sentiment was genuine!) He has also researched migraine and has forwarded me some enlightening articles.

Accommodating my light sensitivity

I've said before that I've been getting a "weekend headache" during the last several months. A couple of nights ago, I had to go home early due to the pain. Wanting to be supportive of my friends' tipsy hunger, I told L. I would try to eat with her downtown. Unfortunately, the restaurant's lighting was entirely too bright, and I couldn't stand it. She made her order a take-out one and stood outside with me, making me change benches so that the seemingly glaringly bright street lights wouldn't blind me - she stroked my head as she stood strategically in between my throbbing eyeballs and the street lamps.

Finding support online

That same night, I got home and took my medication. I checked my email for the hell of it, and one of the boys I'm not-dating-but-not-not-dating was online. As one who's especially vulnerable when trying to endure a migraine attack, I told him what was going on with me. He stayed online with me as I typed to him how I was feeling. Though he lives really far away, he let me know how he would hug me and hold me if he could. As cheesy as it sounds, that support was so very comforting.

A small act of kindness

Final vignette, and then I'm off to bed.

My insurance plan allows me to spend $1000 on prescription drugs before I have to start paying for the medications myself. Surprise, surprise: with the cost of migraine medication, my allotment was out after only three months of being on my 12-month insurance plan. Recently I got my refill on Relpax & Effexor XR (for migraine treatment and not for depression, as it's commonly prescribed). The pharmacist was kind but impersonal as she had me sign the check.

"So, you don't have insurance?"

"Oh, I do, but the prescription allotment ran out." (No comment from the pharmacist.)

Another expensive migraine expense

The grand total for one month of Effexor plus 12 Relpax pills was well over $300. I tried to beam like a champion as I signed away what little money I had in my account. I wanted the pharmacist to smile or do something to acknowledge my situation. Nothing.

A genuine sentiment

Then, as I handed her my signed copy of the receipt, she looked at me and said, "God bless you, ____." I'm not religious, and I must note that her tone was more of one used by a lovely girl raised in the South who uses the phrase frequently rather than one who is extremely Christian.

Just those words, along with her look of genuine empathy, were enough to drive me to tears. I said a quick thanks and made my way out of the building as my eyes filled with water.

Support makes a huge difference

Just these little moments make things feel so much better. Just having someone make an effort to connect with me and say that they understand a bit of my struggle means the world...

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