No, migraine is not a pose,
It is a pain that I would like them to feel for but one day, nothing more, because all of them wouldn’t stand it and wouldn’t be capable to live with it.
Migraine is like any other rare disease, less studied, less financed, fewer medications, but with a much higher number of persons affected than any other rare disease.
I wonder how they would react, all the pretty skin or pose, if they had a child, only 3 years old and no taller than 1 meter, vomiting all day long, laying on the bed and taking no more than 1 spoon of tea every 5 minutes, in order to stay hydrated.
And living like that until becoming 5 years old, when, playing in the park, like any other normal child, he sits on a bench, white and immobile, with no doctor capable of diagnosing him. Then, up until being 9, to have him pass through 3 RMN’s, to discover if he has any cerebral problem. And to have other doctors give him a medication for epilepsy. He was lucky for having an intelligent mom who asked for a second opinion, and saved him from becoming a vegetable.
Then, being 10, after his father’s death, having one migraine so strong, that his vegetative system get blocked so that no one could find a vein for an injection, getting cold like ice on a hospital bed, while, as a mother, I watched the scared faces of the nurses, for not being able to give him the intravenous medication. Finally, the doctor decided to put the medication, in extremis, in his butt.
Then, for them to see him, when he was 15 years old, at night, after a whole day of migraine, having convulsions. Or coming back from high school, being 18, almost reaching home, he couldn’t make it and an ambulance got him to the hospital, form the metro station close to his house. I wouldn’t like them to discover how it is to wait and get worried because your son doesn’t arrive from school and then to be announced by phone that he’s hospitalized.
Nor to discover how it is to fail exams because of a f-ing pain into your brain. And then the teacher gives you the “positive” speech about “a football player going out and playing, despite of being injured”, which shows you, a woman of 43 years at that time, first, that the one talking to you about being positive, has no f-ing clue about what she’s talking about, and second, that she also has no idea about football. That she’s just another “flower- power- happy- powder” (copyright of the expression belongs to my son).
After my son’s and my own migraines, thank God he’s having less and I am having more, but my daughter starts having them too. Less frequent, but strong ones, vomiting on the street, for example, coming back from school, and fearing as a mother, that you won’t get home with her, to put her into the bed, no light, no noise, no scents, just staying still in the bed, till it will pass, but to get to the hospital. And no one of those so positive, optimistic people, showing signs of love, hearts and so on stopping on the street to ask if you need help.
So…now they may all go buy some ibuprofen and hope their “progress disease” will be cured.
(their hands won’t go numb, their mouths will be capable to articulate correctly, their eyes will not be partially blinded, the noise won’t be painful and the light won’t sting the eyes, etc.), and of course, they will be able to read the news scroll on TV with 5 years of age, like my son.