It wasn’t like I had a brain tumor. This is what I remember most from my first trip to the student health center the first semester of my freshman year. The doctor loudly exclaiming outside my small sterile examining room that “it wasn’t like [I] had a brain tumor.”
Why? A simple and poignant question. It has been a breakthrough for so many. A three-letter word that cuts toward the core of understanding. I have heard both theoretical scientists and three-year-olds use this same question. Each trying to desperately grow their minds by willing it towards understanding the world around them. The day I asked the question of, why, on the side of a Tennessee path I was searching for the answers to why my stomach had revolted abruptly and violently. Leaving an otherwise patch of dry leaves moist and putrefied. The immediate causes I tried to line out but the solution still eludes me today. Even through the leaves and my unavailable powers of divination, I could see that my day was done. The “why?” of being there was easy. I have believed for some time that there is a need to show others the impact of migraine. I use arduous efforts of physical endurance to strike conversations about migraine.