After years of struggling, I am just now coming to terms with the fact that I am chronically ill, and everything that comes with that. For six years I have fought against my own body expecting to get better, when there was, unfortunately, no getting better for me. My goal of living a conventionally "healthy" life was recently crushed in my most recent trip to my neurologist, where it was confirmed that my migraines were never going to just go away. They are something that I'll have to live with for the rest of my life, and quite frankly, that doesn't seem appealing.
For those of you who do not know what migraines are, they are a type of headache that usually effects one side of the head, and can cause nausea and effect vision. This causes severe sensitivity to light and sound. Now I know that doesn't sound too bad, but what if I told you the nausea and blurred vision is caused by the brain swelling against the skull, or that I have these three times a week? That I had one on the night of my senior prom? That I had one the morning of my college orientation? That I have to sit through classes in bright lecture halls in fear of falling behind, trying not to open my eyes too wide to feel the needles pierce my eyes? The days I do take off aren't much better.
Days Off
Days off from school are few and far between, and they aren't beautiful. They look like me sitting in the dark with my head pressed against the cool, concrete wall of my dorm, with tears streaming down my cheeks, trying to relieve the pressure in my head. It looks like me laying on my back with a cold cloth on my forehead, humming one note because focusing on keeping the pitch keeps my mind off the pain. It looks like me telling my room mate I'm going to stab myself in the forehead if my emergency medication doesn't kick in soon, because I can't handle feeling of the burning pain in my head. Ignoring phone calls because my phone is too luminous, even on the lowest brightness setting, to look at. Chronic migraines and chronic illness don't take days off. The migraine doesn't care if you have your Senior awards night, or a choir performance. The migraine expects you to take those nights off for it, and it expects others to understand your pain, but that just doesn't happen.
Being confined to your room starts to feel more like a prison, and your body is the warden, your illness is your punishment and your sentence is life, but that doesn't mean I am doomed to suffer.
When you are sick, others love to send you love and attention. They like to send you get well texts and flowers. They understand when you're not feeling up to going out, but when it's the sixth time in three months that you've declined a dinner invitation because your own body has betrayed you, it's suddenly your fault, not your illness.
When your new normal is laying in the dark with your head against a wall, a good day just seems like a day where it's not "one of the worst days." Being confined to your room starts to feel more like a prison, and your body is the warden, your illness is your punishment and your sentence is life, but that doesn't mean I am doomed to suffer.
Appreciating The Good Days
Although my body has given me this illness for what seems to be no good reason, there are still many wonderful things that I can enjoy even while battling the pain. Some of these things include the hugs from friends and family members and the quiet music that I can play when I'm trying to make my migraine go way. I can enjoy my days off from migraines, and appreciate them more than others might, and I think that is what makes being chronically ill the most special; Your good days are really, really good.
