Bad Brains, part I

I have written in this blog about genius. That is one aspect of the brain which makes mine stand out, but it also comes equipped with a couple of dark sides. One is what is described by my neurologist as intractable, atypical migraine.

I have had these headaches for just about as long as I can remember, but it was many years before I found out exactly what they were. And although migraine usually includes a headache, I have found out that the pain is far from the only symptom of the migraine. It is a complex neurological phenomenon that can also affect other systems of the body, and can seriously disrupt one's life. I don't want to go into any kind of medical detail here, since so much good and official information is available on the Internet, but I have to wonder if my experience with migraine is the dark side, maybe even the payback, for a brilliant mind which was always so taken for granted.

I used to think of migraines as "sinus headaches," because they occurred in the frontal part of my head, were often accompanied by nasal congestion, and tended to happen with sudden changes in barometric pressure. There was a time when I tried to be sure that I always carried prescription pain pills with me, since these headaches popped up without warning and didn't respond well to over-the-counter medicine. I recall a family reunion dinner that had to be moved inside when a sudden storm came up; I took a pill and crawled off to sleep in the car, unable even to make the rounds with my regrets. I have since been informed that there is no such thing as a sinus headache, except maybe a dull ache accompanying a severe infection. In fact, it was an ear-nose-and throat doctor who referred me to neurology for my headaches, suspecting they were migraine.

Before I was treated, I was likely to be found in my doctor's examining room, all the lights off, curled up in a fetal position on the table. On at least one occasion, I had to pull over to the side of the road and throw up on the way to the doctor, because the accompanying nausea was so bad. (Passing restaurants on the way to the office made me think about the food they served, and just the thought was enough to make me heave.) Light was like broken glass being pushed into my head through my eyes. And the muscles in the back of my head and neck would get exquisitely sore to the touch - something like the feeling of a very bad bruise.

I have only had the famous migraine aura once. I was at work, and was copying down a long number, twelve or fourteen digits. When I looked at what I had written down, it was only seven or eight digits long. A blank space had opened up in the middle of my vision, and I had not seen the numbers in it. I also had some black-and-yellow zigzags visible at the periphery of one side. I went to the eye doctor, who told me I was experiencing classic migraine symptoms, but I did not get the headache until several hours after the visual disturbance, and, in fact, until I was waiting for the eye doctor.

By now, I have been treated for several years, and am taking a combination of drugs to prevent migraine. I also have medication to take when I get a migraine anyway, which is fairly frequently. However, I rarely have severe headaches and never have nausea with migraine any more. Now, I have one of two types of experience: either a mild headache, for which I take some pills and am able to go on with what I would otherwise have been doing; or the semi-comatose migraine state. In this case, I wake up and try to get out of bed, but am unable. On weekdays, my alarm clock will wake me up, but on weekends, I often don't wake up until the afternoon. I stay in a semi-awake, semi-asleep state until sometime in the evening, dreaming; I don't get hungry or thirsty; don't have to get up to use the bathroom; don't wake up and get bored and want to do anything. This usually follows stress and the relief of stress, or precedes severe weather changes. This condition is usually not accompanied by headache, but afterward, I remain for a day or so in a groggy, confused mental state.

The main medication I take for preventing migraine causes me not to be able to recollect names of things - a condition known as anomic aphasia. This sometimes rises to an acutely aggravating level. Considering how often I get into the catatonic but pain-free migraine state described above, I have to wonder how much worse my condition would be at this point if it were to go untreated?