Thursday, July 24, 2014
Sleep
Sleep is one of our best weapons against the Trigeminal beast, but we know it’s easier said than done. It’s very hard to fall asleep when a jackhammer is hammering away on your poor temple or some mad scientist has you strapped down to a gurney while repeatedly shocking your eye in a failed experiment. My case is intense stabbing pains in the left eye, ear, or excruciating aches in my cheek.
A few years ago I made a decision to go to bed at almost the same time every night. My research told me it would help me manage the pain better. It worked. Oh, I’m still in pain, but the severity of it has greatly decreased. On those nights I don’t get a goodnight, well, it ain’t pretty.
Constantly battling pain drags us down, draining our energy reserves. Sleep helps replenish it, when we don’t sleep the pain increases and the vicious cycle continues. Here are some tips to try and help sleep well.
1. Sleep in a cool room
2. Roll up a towel and rest your neck on it…still can’t believe how well this works
3. Go to bed at the same time every night
4. Playing soft music helps some people who have trouble falling asleep
5. Stay away from caffeine in the PM
Monday, July 21, 2014
Gabapentin
Gabapentin was the last drug I took to battle my trigeminal neuralgia pain. The other two were complete duds that did little to stop the agonizing pain. As the proverbial cliché states, “Third time’s the charm!”
Once again I started ballooning like the BF Goodrich blimp. I gained ten pounds in a week, like before I did not change my diet, the weight gain just happened. The dreaded gain was the least of my worries, I had dreams that I would like to forget.
I think it was the fourth day, the first day of taking the full dosage of Gabapentin that the world of Donald Bellisario, Rod Serling, and Ray Bradbury invaded my sleeping mind. I dreamt a series of interconnecting dreams, one would end and it would continue in the next dream until I awoke. I can only think of one other time when this has happened.
The dreamt I was my dashing heroic fighter pilot, instead of blasting the evil from the friendly skies, he was investigating a murder that coincided with a missing shipment of missiles. The whole set of connecting dreams was dull until the end. Ryan was walking down a desolate beach trying to clear his mind. He heard something to his left and looked over a row of saw palmetto. He could see the missing missiles sitting in the back of a van, then a body bag being disposed of.
Wolf pulled out his 9MM and checked it, one round in the magazine. He grimaced and pulled out magazine, one round. He pulled out another…again only one round. It seemed like time was in a bottle during this particular scene as he searched for the missing rounds. The dream went blank but I do remember him firing a round.
I was behind a two way mirror, watching my wingman, Lieutenant Kara Pike and NCIS Agent Gibbs grilling a man. He caved and confessed, “I killed Lieutenant Commander Ryan Wolf.” I was too shocked at the startling revelation to do anything. I stood there stoically, watching as he sang.
Seconds later I had enough and walked away as I muttered something about it being time for a Cold Case type ending. Pike did a double take, she saw me walking out. My former wingman quickly excused herself and vainly rushed outside, for I was long gone unlike the ending of the TV show.
As of writing this, I will not discuss this dream any further detail. I won’t investigate or attempt to delve deeper into it. Nor will I attempt to search for any meaning other than it was a figment of a stupid pill I was taking. The next night I again found myself as my hotshot character. He was sent back in time to stop a murder from taking place…Do you see a pattern forming?
This dream was different than the previous one. It was interconnecting but cloudy. I didn’t see things completely, almost like looking through murky water. The ‘veil’ lifted towards then end. Ryan was struggling with the- would-be murderer. Wolf was stabbed in the left arm, but managed to save the day when the culprit turned himself in.
Ryan’s arm was in a sling as he stood outside the police station. His fiery wife Brooke took his hand and a mysterious truck pulled up a second later. “Come on,” he calmly stated and led her away. Another truck pulled up, they quickly picked up the pace of their walking. The couple ducked down alleyway, finding another truck pulling into it. They retreated back, finding a curving walkway between two stone buildings. I was looking down with the sense of that we would find something waiting for us at the next intersection, then my alarm clock blared.
“No more,” I muttered as I got up to do my early morning routines. I called my pharmacist and he told me to wean myself off like I started the pills. I did just that, but did it ever knock me on my furry fanny! Aches and pains in the back were about as bad my TN pain. However, the TN pain was the worst I ever felt. I took four Aleves to kill the excruciating ache in my left cheek. The hellish thoughts of ‘Why won’t God take me,’ made the pain all the worse. Thankfully He allowed the naproxen to work and things settled down.
I took three prescriptions, none of them successfully neutralized my atypical trigeminal pain, but they conspired to wreak havoc on my body. No more, I will battle the unspeakable pain through diet, supplements, and other means when it becomes legally available.
Sunday, July 20, 2014
Going Down
I promise if and when this gets published I will edit to where the girl gets kissed. I still can't believe this thing took nearly four years to finish. Now for those of you who have Trigeminal Neuralgia, brace yourself for a potentially painful ride. I wanted to explain what we feel, the intensity, the sheer desperation to get a few hours of being pain free.
http://www.tnnme.com/author-brian-whitaker-going-down-short-story.html
Friday, July 18, 2014
Headache Journal
If you suffer from headaches and don't have a journal, do yourself a favor and buy a spiral notebook. There's all kinds of back-to-school sales going on right now, especially Wal-Mart, you can pick up one for under a dollar. It will help you keep track of your pain as well as recognizing your triggers.
A friend told me to make one before my neurologist told me to. I started keeping track of the headaches, including my undiagnosed Atypical Trigeminal Neuralgia, and the weekly migraines. I soon discovered that Swiss cheese and cold cuts were behind my fiery migraines in late 2010 and early 2011. One can also use it to track Trigeminal pain as well.
Tho I do recommend you writing nearly every detail when the pain strikes, the location, intensity, and whether its shocking, stabbing, or ache. It will help you identify different triggers whether they be food, weather, or other variables.
Monday, July 14, 2014
Sunday, July 13, 2014
Saturday, July 12, 2014
A Crabby PSA
The day was Thursday, the day I clean Admiral Doolittle’s pool. The Old Man, as we affectionately call him at Gotham NAS, is also my bodacious wife’s grandfather. I dreaded the entire ride over to his house. I felt another excruciating Trigeminal Neuralgia attack bubbling underneath my left cheek as I thought of him asking me once again when Brooke and I were going to give him his first great granddaughter. I feel like telling him, “You can’t rush greatness.”
Apprehensively I opened the pool gate. I braced myself for the cantankerous cigar chomping man to verbally assault my tender left ear with his nonstop asking about his future great granddaughter. I could literally feel the TN attack tapping underneath my left cheek as I silently began checking the pool’s vital chemical supply.
I nervously peered around the corner to see if he was sitting at a table reading the front page of the Gotham Guardian, the number one rag in town. I breathed a sigh of relief seeing an empty table and continued to stealthily perform my duty. I bravely tipped toed to the edge of the silent pool.
One timid look over my shoulder and I went to work. I collected the water sample, pulled out the phenol red, and dropped five red drops into the sample. I vigorously shook it and smiled, the water sample was perfect. Then I saw an eight legged crustacean in the water. “Foxtrot,” I muttered, for if the old man saw it, he would be more crotchety than ever.
I fished the small blue crab and set it down on a concrete tile. The tiny crab made no attempt to scurry away as it stood next to my large shoe. I gently tapped it with my shoe, it slightly moved to the right, stopped, and sat down. “Whatcha got there?!?!?”
I nearly jumped out of my epidermis. I placed a quivering hand on my heaving chest as I turned around to face the voice that addressed me. “CAG! What are you doing here?” I breathlessly gasped as I felt the inevitable TN attack simmering under my left cheek.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Commander Quinn stated.
“I fished out a little crab,” I answered lightly kicking the sea creature in question. The tiny thing momentarily stood up and sat back down. “I think the pool’s acid and chlorine have the poor thing is on his way to Davy Jones’ Locker.”
“Hot diggity dog lieutenant! You did it again!” an excited Quinn exclaimed and slapped my shoulder.
“I what?” I replied full of incredulous joy.
“Just like you privatized international relations with Australia and Russia, now you’ve given life to Gotham NAS’ new drug Public Service Announcement,” the old A-4 Skyhawk pilot grinned.
“New PSA?” I was too busy trying to ignore the oozing pain in my left cheek to fathom an answer.
“Yes, my boy, taking bad acid will leave you a little crabby…”
I really hope Commander Quinn doesn’t quit his day job.
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