I Battle Chronic Migraine
chronic migraine · daily prompt · Humor · Writing

I Battle Chronic Migraine

Amy63 Comments

What do you enjoy doing most in your leisure time?

A tongue in cheek title, but it’s a serious post today, folks. I received a spam comment from a “life-of-the-party” type telling me that WordPress can easily access all of my information and surely I could make up some stories. Well, clearly this person doesn’t read my blog at all, which means I take little value from the statement. But they do have a point. Much to the spammer’s chagrin, today I won’t be making up a story or writing a poem. nor will I be performing interpretive dance.

In my leisure time I enjoy battling migraine. In my workday, I battle migraine. When I’m writing a story, I battle migraine. It’s a war, made up of many battles. Some battles migraine wins, and some I do.

I wear purple battle armor

I’ve suffered from migraine since I was 12 years old. I’m going to scream this from the rooftops: migraine is not a headache, although that is the most commonly known symptom of migraine. Many symptoms accompany migraine. And there are many types of migraine. I started out with the headache type when I was 12. And then progressed to the aura which is followed by headache as a young adult. Then I got slammed with the shadiest, dirtiest, low down piece of crap migraine I’ve ever had: vestibular migraine. Vestibular migraine is characterized by vertigo, which is the sensation of spinning. It is also characterized by a rocking boat sensation, where you don’t have balance and you walk funny. A headache, sweating, stomach upset, vomiting, tinnitus, and a host of other unusual symptoms are also seen with this type of migraine. This migraine seems to be chronic for me. I live with it every day, all day. Migraines are often genetic. They can also be traumatic brain injury induced. Migraine is a neurological condition, not a headache. There are several types of migraine, and some of them are quite shocking. They are all beasts.

Types of migraine

I consider myself a bad ass for dealing with this shit every single day of my life, continuing to work and trying to live a somewhat normal life. Having vertigo for over 24 hours and throwing up nonstop, ending with a trip to the ER, where they can’t help, is not something I would wish on any enemy that I would ever have – infinitum. Many of my family members have migraine of varying types, severity and chronic states. If you line up my family members next to each other, put on a blindfold, move to the side, wave your arms around in front of your face, you will poke every single one of my family members in the nose and yes, you will have poked a migraineur.

What causes or exacerbates it? Having a brain. Also, the barometer rising, the barometer falling, the barometer being too high, being dehydrated, not getting enough sleep, getting too much sleep, too much stress, not enough exercise, turning your head wrong, these are all things I can bring on a vestibular migraine for me which, as I explained is chronic. It’s running in the background in my code. It comes to the forefront when it wants.

I have medication, but they don’t work quite as well as they should, and it’s always about tweaking the medications for us chronic migraineurs. You cannot cure migraine. Migraine is a neurological condition. It is controllable. For me, medication is essential. CBT and other types of behavioral therapies help. Vestibular rehabilitation exercises help. Getting up out of bed when you feel like you’re going throw up yet again and you can’t stop spinning helps. But imagine having to do that every day.

This is key to understanding

I don’t expect to ever be cured of this, and I don’t expect anyone to understand how you can be completely disabled at times by something you can’t see. But people who have an invisible condition or disability will understand what I’m talking about. What I do in my leisure time is I fight migraine. It is a war. I will fight to the death.

In my other free time I poke fun at Blahganuary, because I can create. I write stories and poems because I am a creative. There’s a section of my brain that isn’t filled with misfiring neurotransmitters and conductivity overstimulation or hypersensitivity. The calm area is where I get into the writing zone and chill.. I just also happen to have a chronic neurological condition that at times is disabling. I never let it win, and I never will.

While I was writing this piece using dictation, WordPress heard me say vestibular wrong. It typed out “Mr. Buler.“

(“Buehler? Beuhler? Buehler?” anyone?)

So to WordPress, thank you. I now have a nickname for my condition. When it acts up, as it is known to do, I will tell Mr. Buler he can kick rocks. I may even say it out loud in public, just for fun. “Mr. Buler, could you not have stayed home today? I mean, you didn’t even bring your battle gear. I have mine. And I’m going to use it.”

©️2024, itsamyisaid.com, All Rights Reserved.

June is Migraine Awareness month
Want My Passwords, Too?
daily prompt · Humor · Writing

Want My Passwords, Too?

Amy29 Comments

Name an attraction or town close to home that you still haven’t got around to visiting.

Why don’t you tell us some attractions or towns close to your home, Blahganuary? Hmm? Where would you like to visit? What do you like to do for fun? What is your mother’s maiden name? Post your password and I’ll tell you if it’s strong enough or not. What’s your date of birth? In which city were you born? What are your distinguishing features? Touch the screen so I can read your fingerprints. What’s unusual about your middle name? Do you live near the beach? Do you have a car? What’s your phone number? What’s the name of your favorite bank? What is your routing number? What about your signature makes it unique? Show us.

“It’s Amy,” I said.
daily prompt · Humor

“It’s Amy,” I said.

Amy59 Comments

Write about your first name: its meaning, significance, etymology, etc.

Wow. Easy prompt. OK, bye. See you guys later.

Just kidding.

(“Amie) What you want to do?”

It’s the first thing that comes to my mind when I think about this prompt. Often, I sing my thoughts. I also randomly sing lyrics all day long, and wonder why I can remember obscure things such as song lyrics from 40 years ago, but not where I put a paperclip five minutes prior. But I digress.

The name Amy means “beloved” in Latin. It’s an old name. It also has French origins. The spelling differs greatly, the meaning remains quite the same. The spelling of my name was given to me for a specific purpose: ease of learning how to spell my first name. And it worked. As I’ve gotten older, my handwriting has gotten sloppier, and now I can sign my signature in .3 seconds. It looks like I’ve gone to the school where doctors learn how to sign their signatures.

Researching this topic, I found what are apparently the top 20 songs with the name Amy in them. I find this claim a bit dubious. I only know two of these songs, and the song that I know quite well doesn’t appear on the list.

Maybe some of you have heard of the song by Pure Prairie League called “Amie.” It’s not heard on the radio very often, but sometimes it airs in the grocery store, and I start dancing and singing and proclaiming, “This is my jam!” in the middle of aisle six.

Amie

I can see why you think you belong to me
I never tried to make you think, or let you see one thing for yourself
But now you’re off with someone else and I’m alone
You see I thought that I might keep you for my own

Amie what you want to do?
I think I could stay with you
For a while, maybe longer if I do

Don’t you think the time is right for us to find
All the things we thought weren’t proper could be right in time
And can you see
Which way we should turn together or alone
I can never see what’s right or what is wrong
(will it take to long to see)

Amie what you want to do?
I think I could stay with you
For a while, maybe longer if I do

Well now
Amie what you want to do?
I think I could stay with you
For a while, maybe longer if I do

Now it’s come to what you want you’ve had your way
And all the things you thought before just faded into gray
And can you see
That I don’t know if it’s you or if it’s me
If it’s one of us I’m sure we’ll both will see
Won’t you look at me and tell me

Amie what you want to do?
I think I could stay with you
For a while, maybe longer
Longer if I do

Yeah now
Amie what you want to do?
I think I could stay with you
For a while, maybe longer if I do

Fallin’ in and out of love with you
Fallin’ in and out of love with you
Don’t know what I’m gonna do, I’d keep
Fallin’ in and out of love
With you

Source: LyricFind

Songwriters: Craig Lee Fuller

Amie (Remastered 1988) lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc

And here is the list of the top 20 songs with the name Amy in them. Admittedly, “Amy, Amy, Amy,” by Amy Winehouse is also my jam, but this song is never heard on the radio, so my interpretive dance, and quality* singing are relegated to the confines of my home. Which is a good thing for society.

(*quality is in the eye of the off–key beholder)

Singersroom.com

I have not listened to all of these songs. Anyone who listens to them, please leave in the comments your favorite. Or if you’ve even heard of any of these songs, please let me know. If you know the song by Pure Prairie League, let me know if you like it or not.

I wish everyone a beloved day.

©️2024, itsamyisaid.com, All Rights Reserved.

That’s All She Wrote
daily prompt · Writing

That’s All She Wrote

AmyLeave a comment

What’s your dream job?

This prompt has been posed to us before somewhat differently. Read my response here.

As for today’s prompt, which is slightly more specific than the previous prompt I answered, I’ll give an example rather than explain it.

Below, you will find a post I made on another social media website 13 years ago. On the face of it, it’s describing a mundane process, but the undercurrents are where the tale is being told. It’s the sum of the parts, not the whole. My dream job is the sum of the parts. The processes that go into making the final creative product: the whole. Creativity, as a whole. The pieces play a role.

Door closed, cats out of room, ear plugs in. Fingers perched on keyboard, itching with the question of where to start.
Writing a compelling cover letter is like writing the story of You. You must know your audience, read the job description to determine style, sense of humor, what the position asks of you, and how YOU can be what they want.
You write a cover letter to get an interview. You sell yourself as a brand to achieve that end. Will there be some fiction? Maybe. It’s best called “embellishing the truth,” though.
I write letters that get attention. Always have. That’s because I know it’s a skill that must be developed, it’s a story that must be told, it’s a tiny little book that needs to grab its intended viewer’s attention immediately. You don’t have much time; choose each word with care. There are hundreds, sometimes thousands of other people trying to get the same job – you must stand out.
So. I’ve finished this cover letter, and will read and re-write it until it states exactly what it needs to in order to get me an interview.
The interview is Part 2 of the selling of You. But more on that later…

Thanks for stopping by. Before you go, if you missed it, part two of Susie’s origin story has been posted. Read it here.

Susie’s Origin Story – Part II
cats · Writing

Susie’s Origin Story – Part II

Amy25 Comments

If you haven’t read Part One, start here and come back to Part Two.

I can’t remember the exact details, as it was 2008, but I know my mom and I were running around like an expectant parent and grandparent, trying to get the cat in the birthing box, supply her with food and water, along with a litter box. We were feeling excitement about the impending babies. Mama Kitty stared at us with confusion and probably a touch of wondering about our sanity.

My mom had seen cats and dogs give birth before, but I had not. I’ve had cats and dogs all my life, but they’ve never come to me quite in this way: right off the press. Four for the (free) price of one.

While Mama Kitty was laboring in her nest, we kept checking every twenty minutes or so – no kittens. My mom became a little concerned by an hour in and no kittens, but she wasn’t panic level yet. By three hours, she told me there was something wrong, and if she didn’t have the kittens in the next ten minutes, we’d need to get a laboring cat into the car at 9pm-ish, and take her to the emergency vet. You can imagine the prospect. Logistically and financially, we were not prepared.

We looked in the room one final time, and…there were kittens in the nest! Three, in fact. The one holding up the conga line was Bubba, a big-headed gray kitten who was the one doing the somersaults and taking up the most room in Mama Kitty’s belly. Next to be born was Rafa, a solid black spicy boy. Finally, Susie was born. She was smaller than her brothers and she was a brown tabby.

You might be wondering how they acquired their names. I named Bubba, as he just looked like, well, a Bubba. He held the whole process up, didn’t seem to know that, and was a scarf around his mother’s neck for at least a month. Rafa was named after Rafa (obviously). I was going to name Susie “Tiger Lily,” but my mom was having none of it. “You named all of the other cats, I want to name her.” So, her name became Susie – except that it really isn’t. Her name is “Thuthie,” which is how I pronounced my baby doll’s name when I was two years old.

Mama Kitty with her tiny crew. It’s hard to see, but there are three kittens nursing. You can see how protective and proud she is of her babies.

For several weeks, we left the little family to bond and came in only to check water, food and litter status. I’d often find Bubba as a scarf around his mother’s neck – perhaps her favorite accessory. Mama Kitty was a great mom to all of the kittens. When she was able to leave them for a time, she would escape the nursery for some attention from the humans. She knew when to return to her babies, though, and so she would.

Bubba, top right. Susie adjacent to Bubba. Rafa mostly not seen, but that is his tiny body and tail. The babies all had stripes when they were born, as is very common. The stripes remain into adulthood, but are only seen in the sun, except for Susie who is a tabby with obvious beautiful swirls, spots and stripes.

The kittens grew fast, and soon became menaces – in a mostly good way. We’ll explore how Bubba lived up to his name, how Rafa meant Serious Business while eating, and how orange poo got all over the nursery floor, bedding and walls, which caused this panicky human parent to frantically call the vet.

Join me for Part Three: The Kittens Take Over. Coming soon…

©️2024, itsamyisaid.com, All Rights Reserved.