I've Got A Splitting Headache

That should be the title of this painting, shouldn't it? Or the title of my autobiography. There are few days when the phrase isn't apt.

Don't feel sorry for me. It's just a way of life. Literally. I had to keep a headache journal about 25 years ago and discovered that I have headaches approximately 20 days out of every month. Oh, they're not all that bad. Some are minor reactions to change in barometric pressure. Some are sinus-related. Some are caused by food allergies to nitrates and tannins. Some are hormonal. And then some are the mother of all: migraines. Those are the ones that really affect my day. Some migraines are accompanied by excruciating sensitivity to noise and smell. Lights bothers me, but not quite as much. And then there are some that make me nauseated and wishing I could pound my head against a wall just to have a solid focus for the pain. Sometimes they come in quick clusters and shoot through my head like an icepick. That's actually what they're called: icepick migraines. Those aren't fun.

What drives me crazy is when people around the office notice I'm not smiling and then leap on me with concern: Are you okay? What's wrong? I tell them I just have a headache and they tell me I should go home. Really? Every day? It's tempting...

I know they're just being nice, but for those of you who don't suffer from chronic headaches, or -- even more unimaginable to me  -- don't suffer from headaches at all (like my father), let me just tell you: we don't need people making a fuss over us. We just need to be left alone and be quiet. In the dark. With a washcloth on our heads. And lots of aspirin and migraine medicine nearby.

That's manageable, isn't it? 

Sigh...Manageable or not, that's life for the headache-inflicted.