Migraine Mother

I see you lying on the floor,

head in hands, face contorted in pain.

My stomach knots, my cognitive function ceases.

I can't remember the last time

you fell asleep during the day

until that afternoon in the fourth grade

when the monster headaches started.

I know my anxiety does nothing

to help you cope with the frequent pain.

But dismissing your anguish seems

so heartless.

I begin the balancing act of cheerful

determination to find a treatment.

While showing compassion,

but not too much.

Doctor visits multiply.

How many ways can you say,

"I have a headache all the time."?

I grit my teeth as yet another health care professional

sighs and rolls his eyes.

Or tells my beautiful daughter

that it's only stress

and therefore sinking her ship of hope for relief.

Things that are true, but do not help:

Headaches run in the family.

You will probably out grow them.

You are just a headache person.

Taking pain killers will make them worse.

Do you want to see a counselor?
It isn't a brain tumor.

It probably isn't dangerous.

Don't you realize the bravery of this girl?

Five years of running track, playing volleyball

going to class, volunteering for everything she can

with an ice pick jammed into her temples.

I see the bravery of this girl.

She laughes all the time.

When I would be crying.

I cry when she can't see.