A Bike Ride

We took a walk this morning, Isabelle and I. We take a walk virtually everyday, she on her bike, me on foot. We have done it so much that Isabelle has worn out one set of tires on her little bike and they actually had to have tubes put in them. Today we broke our usual routine and went in the a.m. instead of the evening.

The air feels slightly heavy and the sun's rays carry the promise of a very hot afternoon, but at the moment it is pleasant on bare shoulders, as I watch Isabelle's sandaled feet pumping ahead of me. Her training wheels barely skim the rode, as she increasingly rides on two wheels going faster everyday, gaining confidence and skill. Her stuffed "Fat Cat" rides in her basket in front of her, as her faithful companion. We turn down a side road on our well-worn route, and I watch her green and white gingham summer dress billow out around her, as she pedals faster, gaining more speed, taking her feet off the pedals and sticking them out straight either side of her, almost flying. Then I hear Isabelle singing, "Oh, I am a princess, and it's a beautiful da--aaayyy! And I am ri--idd-ing my bi--ike! A-and I l-ive in a to-ower! And it's grea-aa-t to be a princess!" The sun is gleaming off her bike helmet, her blonde pony-tail streaming out behind her like a flag, bike tires humming on the pavement, and Isabelle is flesh and blood happiness.

I walked behind my magic child, for in that moment she was pure magic to me, with a mixture of utter bliss and a sense of fleetingness filling up my chest. The enormous grin on my face came from just feeling so LUCKY to be in that moment, to see such joyful, gorgeous innocence, and reminding myself that this was one of the many reasons why I chose to stay home with Isabelle in the first place. So, she and I would have these kinds of memories. Time passes so quickly, and I know that slight tightness in my heart comes partly from thinking I should take a mental snapshot of her right now because my little girl won't need those training wheels next summer and perhaps next year in won't be "cool" to ride with "Fat Cat" in her basket anymore or to sing at the top of her lungs as she rides her bike down the street.

But today Isabelle is still four, loves princesses, bike rides, her "Fat Cat," and can even remind her mother why we should never grow up completely.

Painful Reminder

I had been lulled into a false sense of security and why wouldn't I be? I mean seriously, it had been what? Six, seven months? Maybe even more. But when I woke up in the absolute still of the night last week, I had one split second of peace before the beast wrapped himself around my skull and reminded me of the pain of a truly severe migraine. Of course, the bodily functions that awoke me in the first place would not be denied, so I still had to move, regardless, and eventually I just "commando belly-crawled" to the bathroom and back. Oddly, despite feeling nauseous I rarely vomit during my migraines. For me I just wish for complete blackness, as little movement as possible, and for the love of all that is good and holy.... silence. Thus, nighttime is a pretty good time to have a migraine, if you are forced to have one. I eventually fell asleep, after crying for a while and praying it would be gone by morning.

It wasn't. Damn. I told Clay to go to work anyways (Yeah, I know, but what was he really going to do) and I figured I could just collapse on the couch for a few hours and get through the worst of it while Isabelle watched some cartoons, and she is a pretty good kid when it comes to people not feeling well. She is very solicitous and wants to help and is mostly offended if you turn down her aid. Being quiet is more of a challenge for her, but after getting her settled with some breakfast she did fairly well. By lunch I had my head to a manageable level... what I would call a severe headache. In other words it hurt a lot but I could walk around and keep my eyes open without feeling like my skull would split in half, so I could function. After a shower and a little food, Isabelle and I managed to piece together a decent afternoon, although I am sure I resembled something more along the lines of road kill (or maybe that is just how I felt).

All in all the next day was better with the typical after effects of my head feeling like scrambled eggs but not hurting and me once again remembering why, in fact, I take that little pill everyday that costs so much out of our insurance. The truth is that the last several months have been so blissfully pain free I sometimes have found myself wondering if I should talk to my doctor and try to wean myself off the Topomax. I am not one to just stay on a drug and you cannot help but find yourself thinking (Do I need it? I am not getting any headaches. Well, let me rephrase that, not any BAD headaches) but then again the drug is doing precisely what it is supposed to ... help prevent them. And in my case, almost completely.

So, I guess last week showed me that the beast is still lurking within the confines of my head after all and that even with my magic pill, he occasionally is going to make an appearance. But one migraine every six-eight months compared to what I was dealing with before? THAT I can live with!