I’ve never been one to run around shouting, “Woe is me. . .woe is me.” But, tonight I am.
This afternoon I found out that I was accepted in to the University of South Florida’s Masters of Mass Communication porgram for the fall. I went through all of the emotions that come along with that kind of news. I cried. I laughed. I stood in awe. I prayed to my God. I felt at ease. . .
Then, my head began to throb again.
In January of 2007 I began to have terrible headaches. Imagine someone holding your head between their hands and squeezing with no mercy. . .now add a sledgehammer to that mix. . .pounding at their hands. Later that year, during the summer, I was diagnosed with Chiari Malformation I. I remember sitting in that doctor’s office at USF Health (ironic, huh) with the smell of latex gloves and industrial cleaner floating around me and sitting on that flimsy paper on the medical bed in shock as tears rolled down my cheeks.
“I have a what?” was all I could try to wrap my head around.
“The only solution is surgery, but even then it may not work. . .in your case it’s tough to tell whether it will,” one neurologist said.
“It won’t make a difference it’s too slight,” the neurosurgeon added.
They stepped out of the room. They came back. They had no solution to the headaches that had me in pain for days and even weeks at a time.
“They’re not migraines, but we’re going to try migraine meds for you,” was what the neurologist left me with.
Did they work? No. Nothing did.
When I have a headache all I want to do is cry. All I want to do is be left alone, but at the same time be held by my Bella (mom). There have even been times when I’ve just wanted to die because of the pain I found myself battling silently. I say silently because I know I am blessed. I know. I also know that everyone else has their problems, and who wants added pain to their day? But, as much as I tell myself, “Better me than someone else who doesn’t have a bed, air condition, food, etc.” I find myself asking God, “Why? Why can’t you just help me a little? Why can’t you just take it away for the night so I can rest? Why?” As I ask those questions at this very moment. . .I just want to shout them to the Heavens.
I have had the same headache for five days now. Just as in 2007 when I was faced with the news of having Chiari and not knowing if it would seriously interfere with my college career. . .I am now faced with whether it will affect my career at USF. I don’t want surgery. I don’t want more prescription – I’ve probably been on at least 18 different ones since 2007 – that leave me sick and debilitated. I just want to know what it feels like not to worry about a headache coming on at any moment.
Now, as I glance at what I have typed away. . .I feel pathetic. I have had a huge blessing today. . .and, here I am complaining.
I have two text messages from my parents summing up the love that I am surrounded with:
Daddy Your mom and I have just finished prayin for you. Anything let us know.
Bella Dad and I are very proud of you. We will help you with your Masters in anyway. Luv ya always. Will keep praying for you. Rest now. Lock doors.
But, still. . .tonight I can’t help, but ask my God, “Can You please just take it away for the night?”