I have a choice

By tammy-lrome

When migraine comes knocking, I have a choice.

I can choose to fret and feel sorry for myself or
I can choose to proactively treat the attack.

When I’m not sure what triggered this attack, I have a choice.

I can choose to stress myself out trying to find the trigger I should have avoided or
I can choose to let it be the surprise attack that it is and treat it anyway

When this new medication causes terrible side effects, I have a choice.

I can give up trying different medicines and resign myself to a life of pain or
I can report the symptoms to my doctor, regroup, and try a new plan of attack.

When I run out of meds for the month, I have a choice.

I can choose be angry at doctors and insurance companies for unfairly limiting my access or
I can patiently call l my doctor to ask for his instructions.

When my doctor says that nothing more can be done, I have a choice.

I can choose to believe the doctor, give up, and start over-using medication “because nothing else matters”, or
I can choose to fire that doctor and find one who knows more about headache medicine because I am worth more than “nothing”.

When the ER staff treats me like a drug-seeker and sends me away in pain, I have a choice.

I can choose to complain to my friends and give up on ever seeking help from an ER again, or
I can file a formal complaint with the hospital’s patient satisfaction department, fight back, and demand better treatment in the future.

When my boss threatens my job due to excessive absences because he thinks I am “faking it”, I have a choice.

I can keep silent and let him fire me eventually or
I can file a complaint with HR and with the state Department of Labor if necessary. I can remind him that he is violating the Americans with Disabilities Act and that failure to make reasonable accommodations may result in fines.

When my loved one tells me to “relax” for the millionth time, I have a choice.

I can roll my eyes and snap at her or
I can recognize her concern as genuine, smile sweetly, and thank her for the input.

When the cashier at the store tells me what she heard on Dr. Oz for the hundredth time this week, I have a choice.

I can be prepared with nasty articles showing him to be a fraud, or
I can simply smile, thank her for her kindness, and assure her that my doctor is “all over it”.

There are a dozen different ways I can respond to migraine and those who don’t take it seriously. In the end all that matters is how I chose to respond. Did it make me a better person? Did my light shine a little brighter?

This disease may force me into the darkness, but I have a choice.

I can hide my head in shame or
I can choose to come out shining!

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