A night with a headache

So my cluster headaches have come back recently. Normally they kind of start up gradually but this time they just started with a bang and went straight from nothing to really painful. Its normal for cluster headaches to happen around the same time everyday and its normal for that time to bein the middle of the night, so of course I'm getting mine at 1am. The particularly unpleasant part of this is that the headache is already going full steam ahead by the time I wake up. Its better to treat a cluster headache as soon as you think you might be having one because they collect steam really fast and within ten minutes you're in agony. Anyways, the other night I woke up to a bad one and the next morning it was still on my mind so I thought I'd write about the experience just to get it out of my head.

I was deep asleep when I felt myself start to wake up. It felt a bit like being dragged to the surface from deep underwater. Next, I was aware that something was wrong, but I wasn't sure what. It was like having a bad taste in your mouth that you cant quite place. Then I realized the problem was my head- there was a general annoying unhappy haziness filling my head and I suddenly had an uneasy feeling in my stomach. I continued to float up to consciousness and finally smacked awake with the dawning thought, "Oh no, I'm having a headache". As I thought this sentence the haziness in my head solidified into a knot of pain focused on my right eye and temple. For a split second I considered staying in bed but as I assessed the level of my pain I knew I had to get up right away and do something to stop the progress it was making.

I rolled out of bed and grabbed my water cup, intending to take some Tylenol and get some coffee- the caffine helps stop headaches- but the pain in my head was increasing exponentially. I made it no further than the livingroom before the pain became debilitating. I slid open the door and mumbled to Kris something like "Can you help me?" and I must have looked horrible because he jumped up right away. I was vaguely aware that he confirmed I was having a cluster headache and then the cup was gone. I sat back down on the bed and it felt like my world shrank. The pain closed in on my mind like the roar from a jet engine- there was no room for thought. Normally I try to prepare myself for the pain mentally so its not so overwhelming, but this time I was blindsided. The pain closed around my mind before I had time to prepare or defend and I was vulnerable to the full brunt of the attack. Losing this battle meant I was at the mercy of every crashing wave of agony and any attempt to regain composure would be an uphill battle that I couldnt even collect my thoughts to attempt.

In seconds I was in so much pain that my body reacted without my consent, writhing and jerking with each shock out of reflex. An extreme fight or flight reaction caused my muscles to tense and contract and clench in an attempt to escape the agony of which there was no escape. My legs kicked, my hands wanted to scratch, to punch, or to just hold my head in a feeble response to each new stab. Soon, but also eons later, Kris returned with the coffee. I used to have prescription medication to treat the headaches but I havent gotten a new prescription in Japan yet, so until then the coffee has kind of been working. I could hardly concentrate enough to hold the cup and not spill or smash it. It was a while before I could gather my thoughts enough to stop wimpering and shaking and actually sip. In between waves I chugged the coffee down and I was a bit relieved to not have to concentrate on the cup anymore.

During my headaches I only have pain on the right side of my head. The whole right half of my cranium lightly hurts but there's a constant severe pain in my right temple and around my eye. Then there are throbs of roving pain that can happen anywhere from the top of my head to my mouth to my throat. These can sometimes hit hard and fast, like being punched or hit with a baseball bat. Sometimes it feels like my teeth have been knocked in or like someone is choking me. Then there are sharp pains that feel like being stabbed or like a hot rod was shoved in my head behind my eye. Sometimes many of these happen at once. Aside from the pain I also have clugged sinuses, tearing eyes, and a general restlessness, like I want to rock back and forth. I try not to lay down as that makes the pain worse- it causes more of the swelling that brings the pain. Sometimes I like to be in a dark quiet room just to limit the distractions.  It's hard to think about anything else when I'm just trying to focus on keeping it together.

Kris sat behind me and held me and whispered comforts in my ear. He tried to rally my troops to take up arms against the beast and, when it was clear that I was adrift on the sea of agony, he simply reminded me to breathe. Sometimes it was all I could do to force myself to breathe in and then out. Other times I was granted enough space in my head to say a whole word or even string together a couple. Mostly, though, I was lost in unitelligable moans or whimpers. It felt like my head was overly crowded by the massive form of the beast and my mind was shoved into the furthest corner. Not even that, it was being beaten mercilessly in that corner, kicked while down.

After a lifetime of immeasurable moments there was a parting of the seas and I was given the grace of a noticable tempering of the pain- a sign that the coffee was beginning to fight back for me. Eventually the ache came back, almost worse for the comparison, and I was set off again in my useless writhing. The pain began to take on the effect of contractions, coming in waves with moments of manageable torture that were ended with the next wave of suffering. Kris' voice tried to give me a lifeline of hope as he pointed out that the waves of salvation were growing and becoming more frequent, so the end was obviously in sight. By the end of it all my body was physically exhausted. When I wasnt seized up from the latest wave I lay lifeless in Kris' arms, barely managing consistent breath. Mentally I felt raw, like being rubbed with sandpaper. And I was slightly traumatized by the severety and suddenness of the attack. I felt like a victom of a back alley beating, left bloody and empty.

Kris and I talked for a while and and he cheered me up a bit while I tried to mentally pick myself up and dust off. Any energy that the cup of coffee gave me was spent, and then some.  I always feel slightly guilty and embarrassed after such an episode. Guilty for interupting Kris' day and making him witness the experience. Its not pleasant or easy to watch someone you love writhe. And then I'm embarrassed for the writhing. I know I contort myself into all sorts of ugly shapes in a throes of an episode. Sometimes I hit, scratch, and squeeze. Its not pretty and it cant be comfortable to watch. Anyways, I crawled back under the covers and was soon asleep. I didnt look at the time, but my headaches usually eat up a good 1.5-2 hour chunk of time.

A few hours later I woke up and headed to work. I was excited bacause it was Friday and I was generally in a good mood. Slowly, like a fog, a mental fatigue started to creep over me. I felt worn out and just over it- like I just wanted to check out, go home, be done with the day. Now this is the second battle I fight with the beast, and I believe it is more important. The first battle is against the pain, its loud and bloody, and its me trying to stay above it and not give into despair. This fight, however, is subversive. Its me trying to win against the hands of depression that pull ever downward. Many people who suffer a chronic, painful illness with no cure can feel this negative gravity. Cluster headaches are known also as "suicide headaches" and I believe thats specifically due to losing this second battle. So I am constantly vigilent. I acknoledge the trauma of the pain, I allow myself some recovery time, and I keep tabs on my emotions. I try to live in the moment and not let the fear of the next attack control my actions. I know its coming, I know it will be bad. But I also know that it will end, and it will not hurt me physically. I will not act like a victom and I will not look for pity. I know there are so many people that have a much harder time and it honestly seems pathetic for me to feel bad about my situation. As far as cluster headaches go I'm quite lucky- my headaches are not nearly as bad as others and I get breaks from my headaches where some people experience up to 8 a day every single day of their lives.

Well this all sounds so dramatic to me now, but it did help as a catharsis. And maybe it gives you something to relate to. Or maybe you were curious about cluster headaches. I don't often talk about these most painful moments because its really ugly and I find it hard to put into words.

K+K