Life in my head...

The miracles of daily life

First, I've got my own miracle. Two weeks with very little migraine activity!!!! I never would have thought this possible. And, I'm weaning off meds in hopes I'll get pregnant soon, and I'm worried about that. The med weaning and my job have got me to thinking. Healthy babies are truly a miracle. Everyone says that they want a healthy baby, but how many people think about the real possibilities of complications? Nothing is more sorrowful than a woman with a healthy pregnancy having a sick baby. I worked in the NICU for a while, I know sick babies happen. But now that I'm back in L&D, it's harder. I know the parents, I form a relationship with them. We talk about what the baby will look like, the name that's been chosen, what the nursery looks like. The baby (just like every baby I've ever cared for), is, in my mind, "my" baby in a way. I've been very worried about weaning meds to get pregnant, but it seems so worth it, even if the next few months find me back at daily migraines. I want a miracle of my own. And, just like everyone else, I want a healthy baby.

Strobe lights

Who ever invented these gems deserves to be staked to an anthill nude, smeared in honey, with a can of bug spray just out of reach. Many fire alarms in hospitals are equipped with strobe lights. For some reason, there is one in our breakroom (not in the hallway, mind you, where the likelihood of a deaf person seeing it is higher). Last night, it pulsed for an hour, without benefit of an actual fire alarm. I finally got on a chair and taped paper over it. I was already having my brain twitches before I got to work. After about five minutes of strobe hell--it was visible at the desk--I felt as though any minute I would fall on the floor and flop like a fish. And I have a damn migraine now.

Rain

I used to love rain. I loved the sound of it on the roof, and the way the air would smell before the rain came. I loved the way the gutters would turn yellow with pollen after a spring rain. Now, rain is a harbinger of pain for me. If a front comes through, I take Diamox in preperation, to reduce the amount of cerobraspinal fluid in my brain, in hopes that it will prevent a migraine. I can definitely tell that Diamox helps, because my migraines aren't as severe, but it doesn't work completely. I shouldn't complain too much, as my migraines overall now are less frequent and less severe, but it still makes me sad. Instead of enjoying the rain, as I did when I was younger, I have to prepare for it and dread it.

Stupid Pollen

I've had such a wonderful week as far as migraines, I shouldn't be surprised that I'm all snotty now. Tim is sick, and I think I may be headed in that direction. I worked late this morning, and I was happy to do it, but I'm afraid that I'll regret it when it's time to crawl out of the bed tonight. Oh well, just one more night, and then I have a couple of days off.

I love my job

Someone approached Tim at work yesterday. I had cared for his wife during her labor & delivery. He told Tim that out of their 3 deliveries, I was by far the best nurse they had ever had. I got tears in my eyes when he told me that. Okay, life doesn't completely suck, like I sometimes claim. Sometimes someone notices what we do, and they do appreciate us. I tried to stay at home once, when my migraines were completely out of control, and I was miserable. I still hurt, and I felt useless. I know when I have a baby (please, God, let it be soon) I'll want to cut down my hours and work 3-11 so Tim can have the baby in the afternoons. But quick work completely? Not if I can help it!

I just felt compelled to add...

That my freaking cat has turned in to Houdini. Yesterday she opened the back door, and then pushed on the storm door, escaped, and hid in the bushes for 20 minutes. For those 20 minutes, I stood in the backyard in a pink bathrobe and my white Dansko nursing clogs, and tried to entice her out with a squeaking mouse (toy, not the real thing. If it had been the real thing, she'd have come out sooner). She did the model walk past me, and I nabbed her. WTH? After we got back inside, she acted like she was possessed, chewing on the door. If I had wanted an animal that chewed, I'd have found a dog, or a goat. She's still mad at me. Oh well, if she stays away from me all day, I will be spared the pleasure of waking up at 3:00pm to find that I have acquired a large, purring fur hat. Speaking of bed, why am I not there now, since I do have to work tonight? Because I can't sleep as usual.

Back to work today

I love my job. I really do. There is nothing more rewarding than caring for laboring women and their babies. Every birth is a gift from God, every new baby is a treasure. After all these years, it still hasn't lost its charm. But I hate hate hate hate night shift. I need to wean off my sleep meds, and how can I do that while working nights? I barely sleep at night, sleeping during the day only occurs with extreme exhaustion and meds. Even with the meds, my day sleep is broken. Oh well, if I am to have a treasure of my own, I have to get off the meds. And for years I did without them (and sleep). And if I am to work in L&D, it must be at night right now.

Nighttime antics

How can one lie in a bed for 9 hours and get so little rest? If the one in question is me (and it is) then the one has probably spent the night having very vivid dreams, waking up several times an hour, talking, and walking in their sleep. Tim says he loves it when I'm off at night, and we actually sleep in the same bed, but I think he's just saying that to be nice. When I'm having a bad night, I wake him up constantly and ask him if he's okay. heh.

Let-down migraines and cold fronts combined

This has been one heck of a weekend. We had serious storms this weekend, which is an automatic migraine for me. Lately I've also been getting let-down migraines. For the uninitiated, these are migraines when stress is over. So, I've had migraines every freaking off-day for the last two months. We went to dinner last night, and I didn't even make it past the appetizers. Tim had to take me home, and then rejoin the group. My dinner is still in a take-out container in the fridge. I've been mad at the world (one of my symptoms) and all I want to do is sleep. Which is not always easy for me. I see an ER visit in the very near future. Sometimes I'm very upset to find that I am still alive upon waking.

To sleep, perchance to dream

Sleep. It's such a simple concept, right? Not for me, but apparently nothing is simple in my life. I love sleep. I crave sleep. I think about sleep all the time. And I'm a bad sleeper. It has finally occured to me that you can be bad at such a simple bodily function. I'm bad at parties, I'm bad at knitting, but I'm also bad at sleeping. At this point in my life, I take 3 Zanaflex and 3 Rozerem every night (with Dr. K's approval). Usually, my night is very active nonetheless. For most people, this would be enough to put them out for a week. For me, I'll get 6-8 hours, but Tim will be up most of the night due to my antics. I talk, I sing, I think I'm at work and I give report on my patients (does HIPAA apply to sleeptalking?), I hit, and on one memorable occassion I dislocated my shoulder and broke my arm. I guess it's just one more aspect of being a "neurologically interesting" person, but it truly sucks.