Tag Archives: The Migraine Made Me Do It

Spring Break Headache!

21 Apr

I don’t think that there is anything in this world more dejecting than waking up to a debilitating migraine and deciding to take a “mental health day” from work to nurse the throbbing and aching, only to realize that upon climbing back into bed, one’s children are in RARE form!

Yesterday as I was walking out the door to head to work, I was blindsided by what we’ve all come to know as one of my infamous little brain-aches.  After sitting for a spell and waiting for the nauseous and dizzying effects to wear off, I decided to take my hind parts to bed and let my co-workers and subordinates miss me for a day.

Too bad that just as I was getting reacquainted with my soothing and pacifying pillow-top, all hell broke loose in the form of adolescent, pre-teen and toddler foolery.  Yelling about being sat next to and touched, desiring French Toast instead of frozen waffles, wanting to play the PS3 as opposed to watching Dora The Explorer, requiring help with the construction of the Entrepreneurial Icee Stand on the front lawn, not wanting to take a bath; you name it, they were claiming it!  And then, in what would have been hilarious parental fashion had it not been so loud, annoying and in total contradiction with the ambiance I was trying to create for my frazzled nerves, the honey shouted for the kids to stop being so discourteous, raucous and wild when they knew I was in bed suffering through another migraine!

Yep, that’s what I get; I knew I should have just taken 600 mg of ibuprofen and trudged on through my day, but no, I just had to tempt fate.  Surprisingly though, I’m not even mad because clearly this was all a learning experience for me:

  1.  There is plenty of space beneath my desk at work to assembly a comfortable palette and I always get into work earlier enough to go unseen by my colleagues.
  2. Next Spring Break, I will be breaking as well…at least two time zones away from my rowdy offspring!

Putting in Work Even When I’m Not at Work

9 Dec

Over a month ago, my honey let me know that he’d be attending a 3-Day Coaches Training this weekend, in order to be officially registered as a USA Track & Field Coach for the upcoming season.  With a million other things on my plate and a billion sticky-note “to-do list” however, I completely forgot to put the training in my Blackberry calendar.

Well, wouldn’t you know it, he emailed me his 3 day itinerary this morning, and I nearly swallowed my tongue at how “Post-graduate Anatomy & Physiology” the coursework (for three days) seemed.  I mean, from Biomechanics to Psychology to Training Theory, I certainly wasn’t envious of his weekend activities.

But for as much as I was breathing a sigh of relief at not having to revisit the scientific side of my college experience, I immediately palmed my forehead when I realized how his absence would impact my weekend.

With my nephew’s weight lifting schedule, the big girl’s first basketball game of the season and the big boys wrestling match some  2 hours away from home (and lest we forget, the babychild’s proclivity for age-appropriate tyranny to the chagrin of his siblings), I am currently all but ready to pull out the brown bag and apply deep and calming breaths!

Then, as if my own work-home life (im)balance wasn’t enough, the throbbing menace behind my eyes that hasn’t manifested since October is once again rearing its mind-numbing head.

I figure though, that if I leave work early today (like now) and get straight in bed when I get home (my honey can effectively provide for our younglings until it is time for him to depart), I just might be able to get through this weekend without accosting someone or being strapped into that ever hideous white jacket with buckles that simply clashes with every piece of clothing in my wardrobe.

Just be prayerful saints!

In Case You Haven’t Noticed, I’m Scaling Back A Bit

13 Oct

Hola Pack Faithful!  When last we spoke, The Migraine from Hell had me laid prostrate and in full submission, declaring that I was indeed Toby and that he, not I was the boss of all things cranial.  Well, several junkie-doses-too-many of ibuprofen and an undisturbed 48 straight hours in the bed (yep, even attended Bedside Baptist on Sunday), I can tell you that I’m feeling significantly better than last weekend.

Well of course, after worrying everyone in my house and all of my friends and family within a hundred mile radius, I was forced coerced into making a doctor’s appointment post haste to identify what exactly was going on in this head of mine.  As it turns out, stress seems to be the early identifiable culprit in this case of brain-ache with a side of torture.  While more tests are going to be ordered, I figured that I would be proactive in alleviating some of the stressors in my life that could easily trigger another Head-Bangers Ball in my skull.

Oh, who am I kidding!?!?!?!  The stressors in my life right now are all of the things that keep food on the table, the bills paid, or that I agreed to raise until the age of eighteen.  To toss “all that” by the wayside would definitely assuage the pain, but I can assure you that it would also lead to me having permanent reservations at a Homeless Shelter and likely being charged with four counts of child neglect.  So, in an effort to stay off the Channel 3 Nightly News at 11pm, I thought that I would approach The Pack a little differently for a while as an alternative.

I figured that since I like having electricity, clothes, a home, etc and the baby child and ‘dem enjoy eating so much, instead of telling the man to take this job and shove it, I would simply keep the blogging light.  While this doesn’t necessarily mean that I won’t be blogging at all, it does mean that my posts for the next couple of weeks won’t be the drama-filled, expose-esque or critical thinking type.  If I stub my toe and want to rant, you’ll likely find it here.  If the man wearing shades and a jogging suit that is driving next to me down the interstate in a Cadillac Seville embodies all of the stereotypes befitting a man of la famiglia, expect to read about it here.  If the tennis moms are hanging out strawberries after a match and nary a child or parent washes their hand before reaching into the carton, then expects me and mine to have some, yep, I’m posting it!

That’s right folks; until such time as we can figure out how to thwart the cycle of those hellacious migraines that come every two months or so and leave me begging for sweet release, I’m going to be unrepentantly chillaxing on the blog.  Let’s see how that works.

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