|  It even seems hard for me to believe it has been close to 21 years since my headache began. I can remember back when it was only in its sixth year when I thought there was no hope. It was fairly early in the morning central standard time, I had gotten up early to call a hospital that was evaluating my case, I believe it was one out of Chicago, not that it really matters now, the point was they were on eastern standard time and I wanted to make sure I was able to talk to the Dr. about any possible treatments available which were basically experimental. Because by this time I had tried every treatment known, including going to Texas Tech Medical School where there was one of the premier doctors on pain management in the world. I have sense talked to other Dr.'s and many have either heard of him or went to one of his lectures. Of course I don't even care to remember his name since he did more harm than good. I also went to a pain specialist in San Antonio TX. where the Dr. put me on methadone to treat the pain, however; giving someone who had self medicated most of their life, not knowing that they were like the thousands of other people with bipolar doing the same thing, some continuing to do so even when they knew their diagnosis, plus the fact that the doctor who was managing my pain, and the psychiatrist that was managing my mental illness, were, shall I say not communicating with one another what so ever. So this is where this part of the story is about to get quite interesting.
This is also why hearing from one of the Dr.'s who was overseeing my medical records for evaluation, basically telling me if there was any hope for some kind of relief or if there just wasn't anything else they could do for me is about to take place. Of course it is of the utmost importance to know about my living conditions, i.e. the fact that I was living with my fiancée at the time, while at the same time I was going to the local University, and my fiancée was currently enrolled in a local beauty school. Yes there is a lot more information that needs to be reviled before I can continue on with this one episode that like my headache, would go on to change the course of my life.
Since there is so much to this story that I have decided to write about it over a period of time. I am sure anyone who has had to deal with chronic pain knows just how difficult it is to put into words how you feel. And just as equally hard to not talk about those people in your life that were there or in some way affected by, not only your actions but what you might have said or didn't say during tumultuous periods in your life. So I will continue with this story from where it first started and a brief history of how I have have suffered from one sort of headache or another ever since I was young enough to remember. As one of my favorite authors has been quoted as saying: "I learned never to empty the well of my writing, but always to stop when there was still something there in the deep part of the well, and let it refill at night from the springs that fed it." Ernest Hemingway.
Besides, I don't even know if but a few people will even read this. And since it's part of my lives history, I might want to see if I would be inclined to talk to a publisher and make it apart of a novel. As one might guess or not, my life is filled with all kinds of stories, many of which I have to respect those who were in it and yet be as truthful as I can be when it comes to what others have said or done to me. Not that I have an ounce of hostilities toward them, it's just that we don't always like to see how we were seen through someone else's eyes.
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