It is supposed to rain tomorrow.
Lately, that's the kiss of death.
The dropping barometric pressure gives me a horrible migraine that usually doesn't let up until the rain starts. Don't get me wrong, it's better than it used to be. At least with the new preventative I'm on I can manage the pain.
The sick kid tried to go to school today and ended up calling home within the first hour. Since this was her third day home, I decided to go the doc's. We hopped in the car so we could make it to walk-in hours.
Kid: Do you have a migraine?
Me: I don't think so.
Kid: You're breathing really heavy, like when you have a migraine.
Me: Then I must be getting one. Thanks for telling me.
That might seem like a weird conversation to share. But for me, it's really important. My husband and daughter are no so attuned to my signs that they often catch my migraines before I do. I'm so used to living with pain that I don't figure it out until its too late. Then I'm just screwed for the day.
And today, I got really lucky.
If the kid wasn't home, no one would have noticed my oncoming migraine. I took a pill as soon as I got to the doctor's office. After we got her diagnosis, a small stomach virus, we both came home and went to bed.
I got up around 3:30 and went to some appointments. I looked like a rock star! Well, I looked like a hungover rock star wearing sunglasses indoors and that don't-put-food-near-me-or-I'll-puke-on-it look.
You know what they say, "Showing up is half the battle."
I made it. It wasn't pretty, but I got there.
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