yoga nidra

On Sunday at noon, I went to one of Athens's many yoga centers for a yoga nidra class. (I just wrote "noga yidra" and had to erase it. Thanks, Imitrex, for your charming effects on my brain.) My friend A. was about thirty seconds into her explanation of it when I decided it would indeed be for me.

As someone who's done yoga nidra twice, I don't feel equipped to aptly (or accurately) describe it. From a layman's perspective, it goes a little something like this:
1. Lie on your back on the floor, preferably on top of a yoga mat or comfortable, thin cushion.
2. Cover your eyes with a soft cloth or eye mask. (For people who can tolerate the smell, a lavender-infused eye mask is nice.)
3. Adjust your body so you are as comfortable as possible.
4. Listen for instructions.
5. 45-75 minutes later, you're done. You have not moved that entire time.

This yoga can be done by even those of us who aren't flexible or super-athletic. Let me reiterate: YOU DO NOT MOVE FOR AN HOUR.

The teacher (or kind British voice on the free mp3 recording) will have you get in position and relax first. Then you'll "rotate consciousness" (skeptics, just go with it) by focusing on one body part at a time. The "61-point" focusing exercise is repeated 2-3 times and really does leave you feeling relaxed and mushy and good. Then you are led through some relaxing breathing exercises and visualizations. The goal afterward is to feel more refreshed and ready to live life, as a properly done yoga nidra session is supposedly as restorative as four hours of deep sleep.

Interesting stuff. And it feels so good! It's also interesting to willingly put yourself in that stage that occurs between wakefulness and sleep, that lucid dreaming zone where it seems as if you're having an out-of-mind experience, watching how your brain works as your body calms down. It's really, really interesting. I promise.

I refer you to this Wikipedia link and really encourage you to read it. Yoga nidra is especially recommended for those whose brains race, who have chronic pain, who have been feeling stressed or anxious, and more. It takes awhile to get used to the practice, but I'm told by the yoga teacher and other practitioners that every time you do yoga nidra it helps you--and every time the session is different because you yourself have changed since the last time you practiced.

gentle yoga, part 2

I had another good hour-long yoga class yesterday. It was hard to believe that an entire week had passed since my last class! Of course I started to give myself a hard time for not going to yoga several times a week, but within a few minutes I refocused my thoughts and patted myself on the back for finally making the time and effort to go once a week. I'll build up to more classes as my body and schedule allow. (It helps ease the guilt when I see that the other relevant classes at my nearby studio are offered when I am working.)

The teacher gave me a couple good tips for taking care of my head. The most important recommendation for yoga movements (according to her)? Try not to put my head below the rest of my body to avoid having the blood rush to my head. (For example, in child's pose, she thought it'd be good for me to rest my head on a soft yoga block instead of having it all the way down on the ground. As I detest the feeling of blood rushing to my head, I will take this advice!)

"narm!" (arm numb...narm!)

For those of you who are Six Feet Under fans, there's a slim chance you know what I'm quoting in today's post title. If you're confused, worry not: I shall not enlighten you. I will tell you to watch Six Feet Under, however. I've watched the entire series twice over. I love it.

But back to business: my left arm has been a state of discomfort for a few days now, and my hand has hurt off and on. I suspect a pinched nerve. Yeow! You know when you awaken after sleeping on your side and your arm feels out of whack and slightly numb in spots, slightly painful in others? That's how my arm has been feeling for DAYS. My sneaking suspicion is that my usually funky back has done something shady to the nerves that run down my arm. I'm going to give it a little more time before saying uncle and spending the dough on a doctor. It's crazy how large a portion of my ever-dwindling money pile goes to health costs.

Sometimes I wonder if I'd be more apt to see a doctor if I had insurance. My immediate response is "YES," as I now feel I would not take health coverage for granted as I did for the first 26 years of my life. I can't imagine being able to see a doctor and not having to pay an arm and a leg--the thought has become hard to wrap my mind around. When I did have insurance, I didn't like going to the doctor, though. I postponed visits and didn't have a tendency to make appointments to investigate such things as numb arms. Maybe now that I've grown older and wiser I'd change my habits. Maybe the subject is null and void since I don't have insurance and won't have it for awhile.

Poop da loop. Off to a productive day!

guided reading/bibliotherapy

Has anyone heard of guided reading and/or bibliotherapy?  One of my graduate school professors is a big proponent and expert of this, and once I learned more about it, I realized I'd been doing it my whole life.  A teacher or mentor helps select reading material that a student may have a meaningful connection to; during and after the student's reading, teacher leads student to talk about how he/she felt while reading, what issues it brought up, and how it can help the student cope with his/her issues.  Well, that's it in a nutshell.

One thing I've noticed recently is the abundance of characters with Migraine in the books I read!  I don't mean to select works in which a main character has Migraine; I think it's more likely that Migraine is so very common that it's bound to come up frequently in both fiction and nonfiction.

Ian McEwan's Atonement comes to mind.  The mother in the story suffers from very frequent, debilitating Migraine attacks.  Think of Virginia Woolf and her struggle with headache as described in her own works, her journals, and in The Hours.  I could come up with MANY, many others if I looked at my bookshelf and gave it some thought.  

Reading about people who deal with Migraine--whether these people are real or not--helps me immensely.  Perhaps above all else is the fact that the author's choice to include a migraineur (or more) shows that he/she is immensely understanding of the disorder.  (Especially if the description of the migraineur rings true to a reader who knows the ins and outs of Migraine!)  In Atonement, Emily's children know when she's ill just by the way the house is lit, how it feels to walk in the front door.  That really resonated with me:  I remember running in the front door after school when I was young, realizing too late that I should've been quiet, that I should've heeded the signs.  You see, my mom frequently had Migraine attacks (or what I would call Migraine--I am not sure if she was ever diagnosed, but her headaches fit the menstrual migraine description to a T) and I'd know it was that time again by the cool, dark feeling of the house, the curtains in the den drawn as she slept on the couch.  Those days were always so sad.

In any case, I encourage you all to share with me (and therefore each other) any books you've read wherein a character deals with Migraine or another chronic pain disease.  If you've never read any books with such a character, I encourage you to do so:  you'll find a bosom friend who understands you.

stinky stinky transportation

I had the best intentions of writing about all the migrainous adventures I had in Panama & Costa Rica, but that has yet to happen. This morning I was reminded of one element of my trip I should definitely describe: the stinky transportation.

You're probably imagining fumes, exhaust, and dust in an overcrowded capital where there are no auto emissions laws, and you're right. But dangers accompanied the swankier rides I took in private vans (for work) and in a big ol' pickup truck that was all decked out (one part of the long journey between Panama & C.R.). The relatively comfortable passenger van that picked us up at the hotel each morning and dropped us off each evening was operated by a really friendly, smiling guy named Achurro (sp?). All the seat belts worked! There was enough room for everyone!

The problem? The car potpourri/deodorizer. I couldn't see one of those obnoxiously overbearing scented cardboard trees hanging from the rearview mirror; in fact, the smell seemed to be pumping out through the air conditioner. Ugh. On a few rides, the smell didn't bug me so much; on others, I held my hoodie up against my nose, as I am wont to do in a smoky bar before I make my escape.

I survived the flowery van stink, but since I was immersed in a sea brimming with Migraine triggers that week, it probably did me more harm than good to be in that van 1.5 hours/day on average.

Cue Stink Ride #2: Jim and I got a taxi in Changuinola, Panama to drive us to the Panama-Costa Rica border. This time, I could see the culprit: two of those stinky cardboard trees dangling menacingly from the rearview mirror. "Unwind your window," Jim gestured to me. I did so despite the unpaved roads and the air conditioning the driver had generously turned on. The driver looked back after a couple of minutes and pleasantly asked in Spanish if I would roll up the window. I felt downtrodden and on the edge of tears (as I tend to feel when I'm getting a Migraine and feel there's no end in sight for the next while), but I sucked it up and explained why I had the window open. The driver's eyes lit up, and he explained to me that he, too, was sensitive to the smells--this, in fact, was the only one of the scented trees that didn't give him a headache. He totally understood and we rolled windows down further to look out at the endless banana plantations. For that moment, I was safe again.

People sometimes shut you down, I know, but--for the most part--it's rather touching how understanding others are if you just speak your mind.

yoga at last!

Today, after my eye exam, I went to the closest of my neighborhood yoga studios and took a free (donations-based) yoga class! Titled "Gentle Yoga," today's class was just that. It lasted about an hour and did not involve any hard-core stretches; the teacher repeatedly told us that one of the focuses of her gentle yoga class was to get a feel for how your body reacts to different stretches, how it feels to breathe in different positions, and how to balance your body better. I had a good time, and (dare I say it?) for a minute there I actually felt like I was doing some good. And by that I mean I think I am going to be sore tomorrow.

As a girl who used to be in excellent physical shape, it's sometimes hard for me to hold back a little when I get active again. I must remind myself that I am no longer capable of the exertion and exercise that were once easily within my power, that I must work up to the point where I can be a super-duper exercise woman. Oftentimes, I am fed up with my inability to perform as well as I did at age twelve and give up. I don't want that to happen this time.

Speaking of overdoing it because I was convinced my body still held its youthful pre-teen powers.... Once I took a kickboxing class with my AmeriCorps friends in Florida. I was all over this class, pumping my fists in the air, kicking my legs high, and doing ceaseless lunges while pretending not to be winded. That night and the next day, my comrades were wiped out and sore, while I felt great.

And then came the day AFTER that. And the several days that followed that one. I was sore, sore, sore, and the soreness in my body helped trigger a lovely little spell of Migraines. I had ignored the teacher's warning to take it easy if we'd never had a kickboxing class before, that it was okay to hold back now and again rather than overdoing it. Oops.

Today in the yoga class I was tempted to stretch more than my body was willing to--I wanted to show those people that I had innate yogic ability! I could suddenly be flexible in my legs even though I have NEVER been able touch my toes. But then common sense whispered in one ear while the teacher spoke in the other: listen to your body. Be mindful of how different movements feel, and don't do certain positions if something feels wrong.

So then I chilled out and enjoyed myself more. My favorite part was the last five minutes of relaxation with a lavender-infused eye mask, though. Maybe in a few months' time I'll say that the hardcore stretches are my favorite, but for now I liked the lie-down-and-rest-while-breathing.

Hello, Four Eyes

I'm going to a franchised eyeglass/eye exam store today to get glasses. I looked at the prices/selection at one of the only local eye businesses, and the prices were just too high. Sorry, local business. I've bought from you before but can't do it this time around.

I'm going to Pearle Vision, whose eye exams are purportedly half the price of Lenscrafters' exams. (Pearle = $40. Lenscrafters = $80.) Let's hope the people are as friendly and helpful in person as they have been over the phone.

In a sense, I feel as if I'm givin' up the dream--the Irlen dream. But my two attempts to reach the only listed Irlen representative in Georgia have been unsuccessful, and the rose- and anti-glare-tinting Pearle offers will help a LOT, I think. I think.

Right now I feel daunted by the high prices I'm about to pay. Clearly I will be spending a lot, despite the lovely AAA 30% discount and any other specials they throw at me. Getting new glasses is a HUGE investment, so part of me--a BIG part of me--is tempted to try to cheapen the deal, not going for all the fancy lens coatings and filters they offer. (A well-trained skeptic, I sometimes go overboard in my mistrust of salespeople and the things they offer unto me.) But lots of [unofficial, online] research and some reading of official manuscripts in medical journals has led me to this: I will buy those fancy filters. I'm goin' for as many as I can get, as different people and different studies suggest that each of the fancy filters I'm about to list has helped with glare, night driving, computer-staring, and--tadum!--fluorescent lighting. I'll go for the rose tint on a pair, added to the UV filter, polarized lenses, and non-glare coating. I'll be migraine-free--and broke--before you know it!


Tee hee.

I do pay tons to visit my less-than-steller neurologist & company in Atlanta every few months. Considering the price of gas, the 1.5-hour ride, and the $135 appointment fee (not payable by my credit card), I sure do pay a lot to TREAT my migraines. Why not pay a lot to help prevent?


Fingers crossed. Thank god for my AMEX and the necessary things it helps me buy. Can't wait til my first work paycheck comes in and I can pay off some of my Migraine-induced debt!

MIgraines & aspartame

Before my own Migraine disease kicked in, I recall my mother's intolerance of aspartame (NutraSweet)--she realized after some trial and error that she got an awful headache whenever she had this sugar substitute. I kept on chewing sugar-free gum happily, not necessarily enjoying the hyper-sweet, chemical taste of the additive but not feeling sick because of it.

Cue the Migraine disease onset in 8th or 9th grade. Soon I became unable to have even a small dose of aspartame. Once, my senior year of college, I was doing classroom observation for my education minor and accepted a HALF a stick of sugarless gum. (The guy offering it was the teacher, a man a couple years older than me whom I found rather cute. Note to self and others: do not experiment with even a tiny bit of Migraine-triggering substance just to flirt with a boy! He'll end up being weird and creepy and not calling when he says he will.) Within an hour of popping the gum in my mouth (which I masticated for approximately fifteen minutes, I'll have you know), I got an aspartame-induced Migraine attack, first one triggered by the substance in well over a year.

My sensitivity to the stuff probably changes day to day, as is the case with most Migraine triggers. If I have a bunch of triggers happening all at once (stress, altitude changes, shifts in barometric pressure) and THEN I have some sugar-free gum, I'll probably get a severe headache. If I am feeling good, not feeling stressed, and the weather is flat in my low-altitude home state of Georgia, a stick of the gum might not effect me so severely. Dig it?

I'm really displeased with this article Google Reader just found for me. The FDA refutes all connection between aspartame and Migraine headaches. The article uses the incorrect Migraine terminology throughout, saying that some patients claim that aspartame causes Migraine--we here all know the key word should be "triggers" and not "causes."

Having a well-respected (ahem) governing body like the FDA purport that the connection between the substance and the disease is all in sufferers' head just leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Let me admit first that I am one part statistician (one very small part, but still) and do believe that, if at all possible, treatments should be thoroughly evaluated for safety and efficacy using a well-run, randomized study--double-blind and large, if applicable. I do think that you can't put 100% of your trust in people's anecdotal reports, especially if you're going to publish your findings in an official manner.

But.

But.

There's a LOT to be said for what patients experience that cannot be (or at least has not yet been) measured in a statistically sound trial. It drives me crazy to go to my neurologist and get up the guts to tell him about some weird reaction I think I might be having to one of the medications I'm on; it's even harder to tell his stone-faced nurse practitioner that I have weird side effects during my Migraine attacks. They seem to not believe me unless the same reaction/side effect has been discovered by one of the Big Pharma-sponsored studies. And this makes me angry. Very angry.

The aspartame-triggering-Migraine-attacks phenomenon is NOT a myth. We migraineurs are not banding together to bring down the NutraSweet company. The fact that I feel feverish despite my temperature being steady during certain phases of a Migraine attack is indisputable--but, oh wait! My doctor has never heard of that. I must be making this up.

We need to be cautious telling one another that something is a be-all, end-all cure--or a be-all, end-all, vicious trigger, for that matter. But we migraineurs' strength often lies in our grassroots effort to communicate with one another after having stepped away from the doctors' offices and pharmaceutical-company-sponsored "informative" sites. We have to open up the conversation about our disease, our pain, and what we perceive as truth. There's something afoot with the aspartame issue, and I will not lie down and pretend that I have been making up this association all along.

Panama week 1

As some of you know, I went to Central America for a couple of weeks; I got back this past Saturday. Before getting there, I looked up reviews on our hotel on TripAdvisor.com and was alarmed to note that customers had problems with the service, the mold, the humidity, and the dirtiness of the hotel. Great. Before leaving for Panama City, I emailed the hotel and requested a clean, dry room with incandescent bulbs. Got no response.

Oh, the room was even worse than I'd expected! The pages of the novel I brought were wrinkly within fifteen minutes of my taking it out of my bag--that's how humid the room was. I asked for incandescent light bulbs at the front desk TWICE. I'd understand if they didn't have any, but what I didn't understand was the fact that there was utterly no response to my request. Nothing. No "I'm sorry, we don't have them," or "We'll see what we can do." Nothing. My friend/roommate/coworker was in the midst of a horrific sinus infection, so the humid and dirty room made her sick, too. The hotel problems go on and on, my friends. On and on. The second night onward we stayed in another hotel (as arranged by our very understanding boss).

The entire first week of the Panama trip had us in a conference room for up to eight hours a day looking at a projected Power Point presentation talking about editing. The sessions were informative but tedious. My coworkers were kind enough to turn off the fluorescent lights much of the time, but sitting in a desk chair looking at, in essence, a gigantic flickering computer screen on a white wall helped intensify my Migraine. Combine those workplace triggers with stress, daily thunderstorms (shifts in barometric pressure), having my period, having stayed in a mold-infested room, and really loud construction & traffic noises whenever I stepped out doors and you have a week-long Migraine attack! Ugh.

Most days I was run-down but felt better with my triptan therapy. Once I ran out of chances to take my Maxalt, I had to drug up with Lortab and hope for the best. Wednesday we left the workshop around 3:30 to take a city tour. The tour guide was a Panamanian coworker who is, indeed, a professional tour guide. Too bad I felt HORRIFIC and ended up with my head between my legs in the back of the van for the last hour of the trip. My roommate (who's also one of my very best friends) guided me up to the hotel room and brought me some sushi in bed--first time for everything!

Here's a photo of me after receiving my food tray in bed. Look how nicely the chef arranged and packed the sushi for transit after hearing that the diner was ill! (In the photo, I am making an extra-sick face for show. All the same, you can see how pale I am--it's rare that I see photos of myself taken during a migraine attack. I think they're kind of scary.