Crazy as a Loom

Saturday, February 17, 2018


It is 7am, and I am sitting with my coffee, the sun is pouring in after two days of fog and mist and nothing but white.

I have had two migraines in two days, complete with the aura, a jagged light in my eye.  The first one was  bad enough, but the second one knocked me down even further.   Both days lost to the general fog and malaise and trying to function through the headache.  Then this morning I wake up with another slammer, so I find myself a little anxious and sad.
I won't be making the hour trip to my grandson's first birthday today.    I'll be lucky to get the chickens tended to, and slog back to the couch.

I can read, I will try to keep my mind occupied with that, and maybe crosswords, and maybe a little TV, although that's last on my list.
And I am trying not to awfulize this, trying not to compare it to the first few years after my head injury when headaches like this were the menu for the day, every day.

It's easy to slip into the negative spiral of OH MY GOD, here we go again.  So I am trying very hard not to do that.
Talking to you all.
Putting my fears out there.
Sometimes that helps me to expose them for what they are:  thieves of my time, my hopes, my serenity.

Since that day when my life changed: August 11, 2011, ironically my father's birthday, I have tried to ignore (often) the limitations I experience every day.
I know I am not alone.
People all over the world live through events like this every day, and are grateful to survive them.

But still, it's not easy.  
I remember the doctor telling me that I would lose 30% range of motion of my neck, right and left.
I smile now, thinking of it.
That is the LEAST of it.  O.M.G, the very least of it.
But then, when I stop to really ponder the brain decompression, the cervical fusion, and the subsequent two surgeries to chisel out the extra bone in my head,  I wonder that I am still sitting here, talking about it.
Of course, my life changed.  How could it not???
I think, too, being in my 60's, impacted the whole situation.  Tough to plod through all that when you are older, I'm afraid.

But here I am, I can't say adjusting to the changes, because some things can never be adjusted to.  Accepting the changes, ah, now there's the rub.   Because I have to accept them.
Learning how to make the very most of the time I have left in this world, working AROUND those changes, that's where I am.

I don't have to like it, do I???

We all have a little nostalgia for the "younger" version of ourselves.   I think mine is just a little more pronounced, because that one day in my life catapulted me much further down the road than I expected.

So I shed a few tears, I give in to this headache today, and I hang on to the thought that soon I will feel better, good enough to get up, kick myself in the ass, and get back to it.

Amen and hallelujah.


Peg Cherre said...

You are an amazing woman, Hilary. Your philosophical approach is an inspiration to me, and I look forward to reading your blog posts, even when they have nothing to do with weaving. You often make me realize just how fortunate I am, and that the fact that I've made (relatively) healthy choices for much of my adult life doesn't even begin to account for my situation - life dishes things out as it will. A simple slip of the feet can change everything.

Thank you.

DJan said...

I hope you will soon post that your awful headaches have become manageable again. I'm so sorry you have been given such a heavy burden of pain and suffering. Like Peg says, I read and a commiserate and hope for a change, since I can do nothing except send you my sincere wish that it will stop and you can return to creating all the beauty that makes up your healthy days.

A Brit in Tennessee said...

Sending healing wishes your way Hilary.
I hope this latest headache is just a hiccup, and you'll be back on track again soon.
Hang in there !

LA said...

I wish I could make it better.....
In the meantime, you inspire me with your tenacity and spirit. Hang in there! Hugs coming your way.

Karen said...

This, too, shall pass. That's what I say when I'm feeling the worst of it. And it does eventually.. there are good days again. Not perfect days, but genuinely good. Maybe it's the cold damp frigid damp weather, as my fibromyalgia crap has been horrendous for the past few weeks also.

Denise at Autumn Sky said...

I'm so sorry you're suffering with those miserable headaches. I hope it passes soon and all feels pretty right with the world once again. I wish the doctors could fix what's broken. Sending good thoughts.

Unknown said...

I know when life has us down in the valley it's hard not to despair. Thinking of you and hope you get a really long period of remission from headaches soon.


Liz aka Fibergeek said...

Sending big hugs, Hillary. I'm so sorry about your bad days and know betterb days are in your future.

KAM said...

Your going forward and managing to find a path with each new event always, always give to this septuagenarian a bit of a road map that helps me wander my own life of challenges.
Knowing that sunshine always comes...and the rain clouds float away as new plans get made is a gift from you to me.
Thanks and I send love and light to you as you walk through this new experience.

Shirley said...

So sorry that you have had two days of migranes. It's a real disappointment to miss special activities like the birthday party. You have handled the problems from the injury with real determination and dignity. Hope today is a much better day and the headache level is very low!

Daryl said...

migraines are the worst .. up there with food poisoning .. things once experienced are more than enough ..

living through trauma is not easy but you've done remarkably well, of course those headaches arent mine so ...

thotlady said...

I am sorry. I understand chronic pain and headaches very well. Hang in there. Mine are always weather related, if yours are too, hopefully the current weather will pass.

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