Below is the recounting of the discovery, removal, rehabilitation, and survival of an arteriovenus malformation. To read from the beginning of the story, click here.
Just a Headache: Friday, November 13
I wake up Friday morning to my lovely static-y radio. The dial is forever falling in between stations.
Whew, I feel fine. My head doesn’t hurt.
Then I stand up.
Pounding, throbbing pain rushes through my head and neck.
It gets better after a few minutes of standing though.
Ok, no big deal, get ready for work.
While getting ready, I notice that each time I bend my neck forward or side to side I get the throbbing pain again. If I leave it in normal position though, no pain. I wake up Dan to tell him I still have the headache. We decide that if I still have it on Monday, I’ll go to the doctor.
Today is a big day, I have a 4 hour meeting at work then Dan and I were going to a hockey game that night. Can’t mess up the plans to go to the doctor!
Seriously, it’s just a headache.
Going through the day, I have this sinking feeling that it’s more than just a headache. Walking down the stairs sends shooting pains all the way down my spine. Not shooting enough to make me want to stop and do something about it though.
As the afternoon drug on, I started jotting down notes on a pad next to my keyboard. I documented the sensations/pain I felt, what time it happened, and what event surrounds the pain.
The reason I remember eating a banana when the headache started, is because I jotted it down on this notepad. I found it when I returned to work two and a half months later. Kind of eerie to seeing it on my desk. Deep down, I knew something wasn’t right. Moving on…
Maybe it was a food allergy?
Dan and I go to the hockey game after work. Still have the headache. I’m not even taking over-the-counter meds anymore because they don’t seem to help.
The noise of the hockey game is making the headache worse. We eat dinner and stick it out for a while, then decide to call it a night. We left shortly after the second period, I think. I was so distracted by the pain that I wasn’t paying attention to much else.
We walked to our car that we’d parked on the street downtown. Dan opens my door for me. That’s the last thing I remember…
Next: My AVM Story – Part 4