Migraine

Goodness me, I'd forgotten what they're like.

It came on about an hour ago, the first I've had in decades, other than the two triggered by altitude sickness and my bathroom ceiling falling on my head while I was showering. I suppose then I mean the first I've had in decades with no apparent trigger.

I was writing and job hunting all morning and so I hopped in the shower after lunch (my shake-up action to re-energise and re-motivate) and I suddenly realised that I couldn't see very well. A patch of vision was missing. I knew at once what it was. I looked down at my hands and my left hand had disappeared. I stretched up to the shower head, to adjust the angle, so I could wash all the shampoo out of my hair and my arms seemed like Mr Tickle's - long and wiggly. Too long. My sense of perspective was going, as well as my vision. I started to wobble, because only seeing half of your world makes it hard to stand upright, or rather, when your vision is inconsistent, there is no stability, because you have nothing solid to latch on to.

I managed to finish my shower and to dry off, aware of nothing except an increasingly large arc of brightly flashing and shifting colours to my left. I wasn't aware of any sounds or any reality outside of these colours, except the reality of my consciousness observing the unfolding events. I've never observed a migraine in this way and it was absolutely fascinating. I took some ibuprofen and crawled into bed, hiding my head under the duvet and closing my eyes to the light. I watched that arc of colour against my eyelids for some time. It was like someone was holding a blackout sheet over my vision, and with a knife had slashed an arc in the sheet. Through this arc I could see flashes of life, some kind of events being played out as if in another universe, but I couldn't quite see what was happening. It felt very frustrating to have these images just out of my line of vision. I had a sense that if only I could see clearly, I'd be able to see something very important and significant.

Eventually I woke up and realised that I'd been asleep and that the arc had gone. I still feel a little as if I'm looking out of a very dark room into a very bright world and my head is pounding, but the worst is over. I can move and walk and see again.