I have a Google alert on the word “migraine.” Every day I scan every piece of news that comes out on the web on the topic. There are a fair number of articles—but not that much information. I do remember when the competition this woman won came out. It’s to “Rewrite Your Day.” As a chronic migraine sufferer, you have no idea which plans you can make, and what you’re going to have to bail on—the threshold for the diagnosis is more than 15 migraine days a week, each migraine lasting over 4 hours.
I meet that bar. The friends I don’t see can attest to that. I thought about entering the contest—I’m in a situation a bit similar to the woman in the article, though (luckily?). I’m single, childless. I’m not missing anniversaries, children’s birthdays, their graduations…are you going to have my best friend’s father die again, but this time I can be there for her? Better phone calls home while my mother was sick? Keep my apartment in good shape (good god, could you?) Rre do the office Christmas party for me, because I slunk off, exhausted, and to the surprise of no one (I’ll never get the extracurricular team player badge)?
So I didn’t enter. I really couldn’t think of anything I wanted back other than my life. But I’m happy for the people that did win. Inasmuch as I can be happy for anyone else with this shit.