What Now????

Just when I build up a little bit of hope that a new doctor is gonna help my agonizing migraines, my hope gets trampled on the dirty, stinky, rotten, filthy floor. Today I went to a new pain management doctor. He was a very interesting, funny, quirky guy. I really liked him. Don't get me wrong. He's a good doctor, but he trampled on the last bit of hope I had about a better future with less pain. I have tried almost everything available to migraine sufferers. This new doctor is on the cutting edge of the electrode implants for spinal stimulation and gives seminars around the World on the procedure. I read about him in our local paper and how he has cured a young lady plagued with chronic debilitating headaches with the implants. It has a little remote that she turns up when the pain increases and down when she doesn't need it so high. She is now returning to a normal life. So I thought, "What an opportunity!! This may be my cure!" WRONG!!!! As nice and great as he is, he is unable to help me. Let me try to explain.

Today was my first visit and he said if we tried a Greater Occipital Nerve Block and if it was successful I would be a prime candidate for said implants. Ooooh, cool! Instead of pain my head would tingle and the I would be free to mingle about and rejoin the world at large. Yeah.....happiness.....oh well......dashed hopes. The block would take effect immediately. He felt around on the base of my skull until he found my pulse. This is where he takes a needle and inserts it into my head. Now mind you, this man is wearing a pink, purple, and blue dog and cat scrub top, blue scrub pants, and an U of A hat on his bald head. He turns up the Led Zepplin playing on the speaker and said "I do my best work with music." I agree. I do too. Then holding his fingers on my pulse he grabs the needle and gets ready to stab it into my skull. Suddenly, he says, "Shit!" NOT what you want to hear a doctor say before his pokes a hole in your head. He tells my hubby to open the door and hollers at the nurse. He needed a smaller needle. Thank God! That was a scary two or three seconds. He couldn't get one because he didn't want to loose the spot where he had my pulse because as you can imagine it's hard to find a pulse point in a scull. New smaller needle in place. He says the typical, "Small stick." Yep, the sticking part is easy. You don't feel it that much believe it or not. Then comes the fun part. I'm sitting on a stool with my arms folded on a pillow laying on the patient table (this is the easiest position for this procedure). I had a previous doc who would have me sit in a chair with a nurse pushing on my head so I didn't move--NOT so pleasant. Okay, stick part is over. Now the UNpleasant part. The needle doesn't stay in one spot. The doctor has to move it around up and down and all over through the tissue in my head. My hubby sees him moving the needle up and down and all around while never pulling it back out until all the solution is inserted into my head. I would much rather watch this process than be on the receiving end. What I hear is, "Crack, Crunch, Crunch, Crunch, Crinkle, Crinkle, Crack." The pain is fairly intense and it's best to stay still, lo and behold you move with a needle in your neck! Don't wanna go there. I can hear the needle crunching and moving through all the very tense (as usual) neck muscles and what I guess is cartilage. Trust me this is not a sound you ever want to hear while someone has a needle next to your brain. Oh, I know, there's a skull between the two, but that is all forgotten when you hear that noise. I got goosebumps up and down my arms and legs the pain was so intense. But it's over in just an hour or so. Okay, One minute. What's a minute of pain if this is the answer I've been looking for, for 7 years now.

The nerve block is now in place. The numbness at the base of my skull started immediately. Feels like your lip does after a long trip to the dentist, large but numb. He left the room and said we'd wait a bit and see if the numbness continued to spread and eliminate all my head pain. And I came in with a whopper of a migraine ready to be cured. I sit with my head down for a good 20 minutes and he returns. I can see the disappointment on his face when I tell him I still have pain at the top of my head, on my right side by my ear and jawbone, and in my right eye. I should state the block was placed on the right side where the majority of my migraines originate. He decides to wait a while longer to see if it gets better. The numbness spreads, a bit more, but the pain remains in the other locations. He returns yet again and asks if any pain remains. I, begrudgingly, begin to answer when he gives me a most serious look and says, "it's very important that I know if there is still pain." "Yes," I said the pain remains. However much I liked him (and I really did in the brief two hours I had spent with him) he said the most unexpected and devastating thing I've heard: "I'm sorry. I can't help you." My heart sank into my toes. I wasn't prepared for this. I was expecting, "Great news, I can help you." I kept my cool, but I'm sure the disappointment showed. You could see it in his face, too. He really wanted to help. He is referring me back to my neurologist (whom I love, but we've tried everything he knows to try now) to continue my regular regimen.

I made it to the car. I hadn't realized I had built up so much hope for this appointment and a chance at rejoining society. I began to cry. Can I just say I HATE TO CRY!!! Not to mention my poor hubby trying to drive me home and soothe me at the same time (what a man!). Finally, I said, "If he can't help me, who can?" Not that I expected an answer. I wallowed in my self pity and tried to pull myself back together over the next few hours. I quit crying, but I had not expected to feel so disappointed about this. I had no idea this was coming. I was blind-sided. My doc and I have tried everything over the last 7 years: biofeedback, Thai chi, narcotics (which are my best friend for a brief few hours of peaceful rest and little pain, but alas that never lasts), breast reduction (to relieve neck strain), physical therapy, PFO (the theory that many migraine sufferers were cured when there was found to be a tiny hole in the heart. Once sealed, no more migraines, alas I had no hole. Now how many people do you know are disappointed there isn't a hole in their heart? ), acupuncture, visualization (find your happy place-I suck at that one), psychological therapy (which I've had plenty of and continue to have for the depression), medications of every kind from drugs for Alzheimer's disease, bipolar disorder, dementia, a plethora of depression meds, even one only available to hospitals and one that can only be purchased from Canada, the list goes on and on and on. So that brings me back to my question. What Now??