Migraines suck! I say this because I have had one for the past 2 days—hell I’d say it even if I didn’t have one for the past 2 days. I’m getting them quite often again. 3 years ago I used to get them a lot along with a tingling, numbing sensation in my limbs. I noticed that it always happened right around my menstrual cycle. So, I asked my doctor about it and we both agreed that I should talk to my gynecologist since it always coincided with my monthly best buddy. I don’t have a medical degree and that seemed to make sense even to me.

So I get in to see my girly doc—well actually I’d have to say womanly-doc because this lady was fairly new to the practice and her specialty lay more with the older generation of clients. Makes you feel totally uncomfortable without even using stirrups. I tell her my symptoms and she basically says that I need to see a neurologist first. Well ok, I guess—I mean her medical degree does trump my limited knowledge of applying Neosporin to cuts.

I’m sure you won’t be surprised to find that I had to wait a long time to actually get in to see a neurologist. However in the mean time my general doctor suggested that I have an MRI of my brain. Huh. My brain. Well that doesn’t conjure up any need for concern at all.

I think by now most people have heard horror stories about MRI’s—especially for those of us who are claustrophobic. Naturally I’m already nervous about my brain being scanned, even more so after the doctor referred to MS as a possibility for my symptoms. This is where the internet can be such a dangerous thing—there are not a lot of warm and fuzzy entries on MS. So using all the strength I can muster to move that lingering MS thought to the side for a moment I do mention to a friend my concern about MRI’s since I’ve heard nothing good. She has had one and says that the worst part for her was how loud it was. Hmm, hadn’t heard that before—good to know and I will remember that one.

Finally the day comes and I head to the facility. Now mind you, at this point I have already spoken with my doctor about this, the nurse at his office who gives me the necessary paperwork and the woman at the facility making the appointment for me. When my name is called, I am escorted back to change clothes by one person and then taken in to the testing room by another person. I believe there were 2 doctors or technicians (not sure which they were) in the room at that time. I have to say they were not the friendliest of people and were not the least bit comforting when I mentioned my uneasiness about being claustrophobic.

I take this as a sign that it can’t be all that bad and I will suck it up. But then they lay me down and proceed to place an instrument on my head that will basically secure it to the MRI machine. What? Ok, I am officially terrified—but don’t fear they have a mirror on said head device that will enable me to see out to where they are. Uh-not a big help.

Or so I thought. The mirror really was a saving grace since it gave me the illusion of being in a bigger space. So I’m hanging in there. I can do this. I’ve been through much worse than this. All I have to do is remain calm. The technician comes on a little speaker to tell me the test is about to begin and that I have to remain totally still.

Then it starts…DE..DE..DE..DE..DE..DE..DE..DE..!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The loudest freaking thing I’ve ever heard and it’s vibrating off of all the metal to which my body is squished in to. I mean this isn’t loud, it is deafening. Still trying to be cool I remember what my friend says about the noise and I calm down.

But really, this incredibly jolting noise was never once mentioned by any of the medical professionals for which I encountered on my way in to that claustrophobic inducing tube of hell where I am to remain perfectly still. I don’t know it just seems that they may want to mention that to anyone about to go in there—just a thought.

So finally I see the neurologist who does inform me that my scan looked clean and there were no white masses that might indicate MS. Excellent. He does however want to run a few more tests and is also concerned about my migraines.

Those tests he was referring to..well basically it consisted of electrocuting me. A test the technician describes as “not painful, but annoying or startling.” It’s pretty much just being shocked over dozens of different muscles in your body—yea, you could say annoying. The other one was the doctor taking a needle about the diameter of a meat thermometer and jabbing it in to major muscles in my legs and arms. That was annoying and painful. I thought for sure I was going to leave the office looking like swiss cheese, but it all seemed to close as fast as it opened.

Again I was relieved when the tests came back normal although we still didn’t have an answer. He suggested it might be hormonal—hmmm—what an idea. I wish I would have thought of that and gone to see my gynecologist before being exposed to the hell that was his medical plan.

The symptoms went away and we were in the process of moving from Florida to Colorado so I dropped it there—I’d had enough. But now the symptoms are back and the first—yes the first thing my current doctor does is suggest that I test my hormone levels.

“Don’t you think I need to see a neurologist first?” I say and then explain what had happened before.

“No, I think we’re good here,” she says and hands me a little plastic envelope. “It’s a saliva test and we should have results in about 6 weeks.”

Yep that’s right—no brain scan, no electrocution, no meat thermometer. This time my doctor didn’t see the need to medically clear me to spit in a plastic tube.

Spit in a plastic tube.