What does it feel like?
Like Mount Etna spewing red-hot lava and rocks in your skull.
Like Benny Benassi’s troupe of female construction workers drilling into your brain stem.
Twice a month I need to be sequestered in a cool, dark room with no sharp objects within my reach.
For days before I know it is coming.
Like an unwanted housepest from the bowels of biological and hormonal hell.
It never comes at a convenient moment.
It never knocks politely.
It just barges into my brain and reduces me to a moaning zombie with self-destructive tendencies.
When beating your head against the bathroom floor seems like a good idea.
When sticking a knife into an eye socket to release the pressure seems perfectly reasonable.
This morning I awoke to discover the demon had arrived during the night and taken up residence somewhere near my right eyeball.
My husband rushed out at the break of dawn to find something, somewhere that might prevent me manifesting Exorcist like symptoms.
All the pharmacies were shut up tighter than a virgin on Prom night. He arrived home with a haul from the garage shop – a packet of paracetamol and some MedLemon sachets.
I took three and waited. I took two more and waited longer. I drank the MedLemon concoction of aspirin and more paracetamol.
Blissful oblivion ensued.
After a day spent in a near overdosed coma the pain has lessened to a dull throb.
I am gradually rejoining the land of the living. Although I still feel like a Pompeii victim.
Of course, I have probably burnt a hole the size of North Dakota in my stomach lining.
The moral of the story is, buy migraine packs in bulk and store them everywhere.