Health Mascot, Day #24
I admit it: I considered drafting a monster or other, “painful” creature to be my migraine mascot. After all, what better way to expose the level and type of pain that a migraineur goes through? Monsters, fire-breathing dragons, psychopaths, and medieval prison guards immediately come to mind.
The pain just feels that way. Migraines are:
A monster is all these things. So it would only make sense to evoke all the descriptions, feelings and conditions of migraine disease with that of a monster. All the ugliness of so much pain would have to be described and represented with a beast…
But, my mind took a different path, one I want to share with you.
My kitty, Samuel won this one. He is not scary, doesn’t contribute to my pain, and has earned this title. You may ask, “Just how did a small, kitty-cat earn the prestigious award of “Health Mascot”?
Well, it didn’t happen overnight, and I wasn’t planning on enlisting him one bit. I wasn’t even aware that I should have a mascot for such a hideous side of my life.
I chose Samuel because he represents the “other” side of migraine – the side of relief & comfort:
Soft & cozy
Sweet & warm
Compassionate & non-judgmental
This is how it plays out. When I’m sick and in enough pain that lying down, suffering and shutting down the day must happen, I tend to turn to the things that can relieve pain or at least dull it. I also look for comfort when the pain won’t budge. I begin this process with these necessaries:
- Stopping anything I happen to be doing once the “badness” comes
- Hot bathtub
- Carbs (if I’m well enough to eat)
- Couch arm (I lean my head over the back of our sofa – it’s firm and nicely numbs the nerves in the back of my neck)
- Blanket (I’m usually very cold during a bad migraine, but my pounding head is usually not – it’s afire…)
- Being alone (talking is usually not recommended and listening – to anything – is horrendous)
This is the end of MY list; as you can see, there’s no Samuel on it…
I didn’t list him because I don’t have to. You see, once most of the other “relief’s” are in place, Samuel just, “shows up” – gently plopping himself on my chest – and stays with me until I can function again.. I can’t be sure if he realizes just how bad I feel, but I get the feeling he just, “knows”. My other cats and my dog seem to realize the very same thing: they all congregate around me, then they just patiently… wait.
Honestly, they all deserve the credit of “Migraine Mascot”. Instead of representing the “ugly” side of the thorn in my side, my pets stand for the good. They are there to remind me that I will get well, I will be ok, and this will pass.