Completely Unofficial, Made-Up Migraine Types: The Russian Nesting Dolls Migraine
Yesterday* I woke up with an awful migraine. It was at least ten times worse than the modest migraine I’d gone to bed with, but, to make a very long story short, I wasn’t able to medicate just yet. Once I was a little more functional, I drove to my bookshop to buy some coffee because—god forbid—we’d just run out at home. This is not good news any day of the week, let alone a Sunday morning when Jim and I both had a lot of work and projects ahead of us. Why would I drive to the bookstore for coffee, you wonder? Well, we sell it by the can. (A local roaster, Jittery Joe’s, actually let me do a few months of taste testing until I decided on the perfect coffee. Pretty dreamy. But I digress.)
A few minutes later, I left the bookshop, which hadn’t opened for the day yet (another perk of owning a store: you can go in when it’s closed and get what you need). I ran into a handful of friends on the street, back to back. I chatted with each and, unlike sometimes when I decide not to reveal my current health status, I told each I was dealing with a migraine. What can I say? My guard was far from up and my person was disheveled enough to merit an explanation. Everyone was very kind and gently rushed me along. “Don’t stand here talking to me,” one friend said, “go home and rest!” “And drink my coffee,” I joked. “Yes, and drink your coffee!”
At last I was walking at a moderately fast pace (at least “fast” for being in the midst of a migraine) back to the car. My brain felt slightly too small for my skull or something. It was like I had a skull within a skull, or a brain within a brain within a brain. Every step I took, the insides of my head jumped a bit and I suddenly had a very clear image of this rare but very distinct type of migraine I get sometimes: the Russian nesting doll migraine.
You know those carved wooden dolls that have a seam down their center? You remove the top half of the largest doll and there’s another inside. You pull that one out and divide it in two, only to reveal another little wooden doll. And on and on until you reach the tiny doll at the very center.
That’s what this migraine felt like, and the minute I coined the term to myself I realized that this was not the first time I’d felt this way. The Nesting Dolls Migraine tends to pop up when I’ve had a few migraine episodes back to back; perhaps by default (since my menstrual migraines are bad and occur like clockwork), this type of migraine enters my life a lot when I’m having my period. My skull feels like a vessel for a series of smaller and smaller containers, all bumbling around and hurting a little each time they make contact with one another.
Has anyone out there felt this Nesting Dolls Migraine? It feels as if your skull is slightly too big for what lies inside it, and your brain is jiggling around in there, a little uncomfortable or perhaps even in pain when it moves and hits bone.
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