"When the Head Does Rock and Roll"

It is not what I want or need, it is all the time by my side, sometimes a friend, at times my enemy(frenemy?) It is mine, but not obedient. It comes and goes at its will. Sometimes it lets me know of its arrival. I never welcome it. It is like the guest who is so not invited, but then it's mine, so not technically a guest. Meet my friend Migraine.

My name is Oopha. I am a regular person. A regular, healthy person. I am very good at following rules. Mostly made by me. I adhere to all the rules I make. On a regular day, since I am a regular person, correction, regular healthy person, I do everything on time. You know, like the basic routine. I like everything as per schedule. I dislike chaos of any kind. The quieter the better. People always say, “Don't mess up with Oopha’s regularity, it will drive him nuts.” Which is true. I was different 3 years back. I was still regular. There was something that happened. A switch was flipped. 

Regular day, with a regular healthy me, getting ready for a regular work day. I stepped out of the shower, my eyes started giving me a light show. Twinkling lights, like those we see on an express train ride. Or what we see when someone turns on the light in a dark room. It was ominous. Like I knew something evil was coming my way. I shut my eyes tight. I opened them and then again ‘twinkle twinkle little star”. I thought that my eyes were irregular and that I needed an eye check-up. I got ready because of the rules, remember? Oopha follows the rules. BANG BANG BANG, that was the sound inside my head. That is a first. Since I had decided to go to the doctor anyway, why not change the specialization? By the time I was ready to leave the house, my head, instead of simply banging occasionally, had started playing painful rock music. Rock noise? The pain was unbearable. A headache. No sir. Not just any headache. This was Hellboy playing rugby with the Hulk, with a touch of Grinch having the best day of his life, that is, being miserable. From Oopha, I had transformed into a puppy hiding in a corner with no light or sound. Everything seemed unbearable. As I was trying to understand this anomaly, there was a tsunami in my stomach. Feeling queasy, feeling pukish, feeling sick. No, it was not so simple. It was so sudden, so bad that before I knew, I had emptied everything in my gut onto the rug. In my hopeless state, I dragged myself up. Disoriented, sweating, unable to open my eyes, I finally did the task of cleaning up. And then I slept. I slept through the morning into late afternoon. As I opened my droopy eyes, I realized the catastrophe that had occurred. I, Mr.Oopha, the epitome of regularity, had missed going to work. I kept staring at the ceiling fan going around its regular circles. And, I slept again.

This was dear Oopha’s first migraine. Why, How. Questions that he wanted answers to. Oopha landed at the clinic, and after some serious brainstorming, his Dear Doctor announced that it could be a migraine, but observation and finding a trigger were of key importance. Over the next few months, he visited the clinic. Not because there was an attack, but because he dreaded its return. He started on medications and did get another few horrible headaches. Finally, Dear Doctor in good faith had found a concoction that worked well, and there was no sign of the dreaded “M”. Oopha was happy that he had, for a change, not fallen into the regular pattern of getting headaches. There was always a looming threat. There were days when this threat came to the verge of reality, but the medications helped him. Why had this phenomenon become so regular? Popping pills became a regular task, and for the first time, this regularity disturbed him. It had been 3 long years with no respite. Then he did something very irregular.

It is coming. I know it is. I will get to the root of this. He sat down and closed his eyes. He started thinking. Traveling deep into the burrows of his memory. He went through every curve, every bump, every nook, and corner, and looked. What was it? Where was it? Today, you shall not escape my clutches. I am a man with a mission. I will retrace every memory, every habit, every situation. I will find you, TRIGGER. 5… 10… 20… 30 minutes, no answer. He had taken a risk. No medication. Waiting..tracking..watching. Nothing. Also, no Migraine. What had happened? Had this worked? But he had no answer.

TRACKING. This is a method that many people employ to deal with pain. Most of the time, without even realizing it. Does it work? Tracking pain may lead us to its origin. The pathway that has been formed may get exposed in the process and catch you unawares. Exploring Chronic Pain in this way may slowly unravel the path that was formed, which was not needed in the first place. When one makes an effort to do so, the brain is also alerted, and then the neurochemicals that are released that have been confusing it start to dissipate. The brain smartly alters itself, it starts to work innovatively to heal, to build better and newer roads. This sounds vague. Lacking evidence. If we observe, it is an age-old method that humans have created. Documenting in the form of cave paintings or writing books and transforming them into epics by storytelling. We refer to it as journaling today. This is a way of memorizing. In the world of Chronic Pain, as we hold on to these memories, we dig a tunnel. It carries emotions. Repressed, metamorphosed into physical entities. The practice of tracking pain is not new, but it is novel. If we turn explorers and try this, we may find an old dingy tunnel, recognize the event, the emotion tugging along, alert the brain, and help it form a pathway that is happier and pain-free. Explore and learn. This could be a new vision.