A non-soothing prose

Upheaval.
Quiet and dark, throwing up in the throes of migraines.
Three days and three nights each... twice, two weeks apart.
No medicines to control them, ride it out.
Ride it out, ride it out.
Feeling that it will Never End.
Desperation.
Quiet and dark, but not peaceful.

A life of discomfort and pain.
The occasional day of fevers and flu-like symptoms.
No answers, ride it out.
Sleep on it, either it will get better or worse, but avoid going to the doctor.
Except sleep... it's as elusive as a day without pain. It just doesn't happen.

Did I say avoid going to doctors?
In the meantime I am driving all over the country to find help.
Yes, I do see doctors, many of them.
Too many. It's exhausting.
I'm searching for relief.

Natural therapies are slow and intangible at this stage.
But I am doing them. Homeopathy.. so far isn't helping.
It's going to take a while, I am patient.
The promise is that my body will learn how to heal itself.
But there is so much damage.
Osteopathy is infrequent, the practitioner of vacation recently.(but I will go to Jerusalem and see him on Wednesday)

Vocal rehabilitation every Sunday morning, also slow, no noticeable progress.
Lots of traveling, lots of hoping.

I am either at a doctor,
or therapist of some sort,
or at home suffering, or exhausted.

Living with pain alters some part of the brain, I'm quite sure.
I take no pain medicines, my body having rejected many of them over these 10 years.
Even when I'm not in pain (I can be in pain but not suffering)
I am down... depressed.
I don't have the answers why, but as I said,
Living with pain alters some part of the brain.

You see me, I look fine, healthy, happy to see you.
That's also true.
Short lived, though.

My oldest son graduated from high school, got his drivers licence.
My other three kids, finished for the year.
Transitions.
I need my quiet, it is challenged now.
More clothes to wash, kitchen with constant crumbs, sandwich toaster always out, tomato sauce splattered all over the stove.
Rice burned at the bottom of my favorite pot.
I want to scream, but I lost my voice.
I lost my scream voice.
I quietly state my standards.

The kids are older, more independent, but in transition.
I'm *that* mother that doesn't control their cell phone/computer usage enough.
Daughter texts for too many hours.
Sons play games endlessly.
I don't have the strength to entertain them otherwise, or to stand up to opposition.

This is life.
This is life after NF... the week that changed EVERYTHING.
Every cell known and unknown to man was changed in and around my life.
I just want to reclaim those cells. I keep trying.
But they are scattered in hospital rooms and hallways.

.