Cure for a Headache?

HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN: Ever had a migraine? I wish I could see your hands going up. I did, years ago, had them all the time and they are awful. They aren’t just headaches. They’re—brutal. (Happily, knock on wood, mine went away.) So I was sad to hear that the brilliant and adorable Kendel Lynn had migraines. Not as sad as she was, of course. But now she’s discovered…well, let her tell you.

Why didn’t someone tell me sooner?

                                by Kendel Lynn

I recently received the cure to my migraines. Maybe not a cure, but an 80% reduction. For someone with migraines occurring 25-27 days per month for the last 2 years, an 80% reduction is a cure. As I marveled over this miracle, I thought, why didn’t someone tell me sooner! Good Lord in heaven, why aren’t people shouting from the rooftops and splashing it all over social media? As a writer, a researcher, and a human with an internet connection, I’ve spent many an hour/day/desperate 2 a.m. effort to find such a cure.

Then I realized, I’m not spreading the word, either. So here I am, sharing it with you. Yes, in my world, a single Jungle Reds post is rooftop shouting.

My headaches started two years and quickly flipped from two or three days with a headache to two or three days per month without. Over the course of 18 months (using my acute detective skills and the help of a handful of doctors), I/we ruled out sinus headaches, tension headaches, stress headaches. Eye strain? (New prescription, I now need 3 different glasses to get through 1 day, but nope.) Teeth grinding? (New mouth guard, I sleep better, but nope.) Then a neurologist promptly and precisely handed down his diagnosis, including the ailment and the origin.

 

Migraines and perimenopause. Migraines? Really? Wait, what the? I’d never heard of perimenopause. My fingers did their keyboard tapping and there’s so much good news! Frequent fatigue, weight gain, mood swings, hot flashes and warm flushes. (As a matter of fact, I do spend half my day asking if it’s warm in the office.) The best part? It lasts up to ten years! Hallelujah, PTL!

Firstly and foremostly, I tested and eliminated triggers: chocolate (oh how I wish it weren’t so), high doses of sugar (goodbye cupcakes for breakfast), and even went gluten-free (not entirely sure this helps, so I’m gluten-free-adjacent).

 But it was a suggestion from a friend of a friend who suggested the cure: 250 mg of magnesium daily. That’s it. It took about 2 to 3 weeks to replenish my system, and my migraines now only occur about 3 or 4 times per month, and only last a couple days each.

I’m not going to lie. The last 2 years have been a struggle. Along with writing (my latest book came out last week!) and all that goes with it, I also run the editorial department at Henery Press, a publishing house I co-own. Which means all kinds of entrepreneurial and business items must be handled daily. And because a simple 65-hour work week wasn’t enough,

 I started a new chapter of Sisters in Crime (North Dallas), and currently serve as its president. (The 1.5 hour drive to Ft. Worth was way too long, so starting a new chapter from scratch seemed the obvious answer.) I always get my work done (I am a Capricorn), but sometimes it takes a little longer. Some days are 12 hour days instead of 8, some days I just have to go home.

I’ve learned to cut myself slack, let myself off the hook, give myself a break. I can only do so much and I can’t feel guilty or stressed because I don’t feel well and things slip by. Oh yeah, there’s mild forgetfulness and depression wrapped up in perimenopause, too (the hallelujahs just keep on coming).

I find this experience isolating, but I know I'm not alone. I’m surrounded by a village. My partner who often does so much more than his fair share, a bff at the ready to talk me off the ledge, a caring staff to make me feel special when I'm having a particularly bad day (like for my birthday at my favorite PF Chang’s!).

Magnesium may not work for everyone, but it’ll help someone. It helped me and I’m forever grateful and I’m passing it on. So tell me, my peri/post/full-blown menopausal sisters, any miracle cures you'd like to pass on? Advice, tips, tricks? Something to boost my sagging metabolism so I can finally lose these extra 5 lbs I've been dragging around? (Full disclosure: it's closer to 15 lbs.) Fine. (Actual full disclosure: it's damn near north of 20 now.)

Thank you, Reds, for hosting me, and thanks to you and your readers for listening and advising and letting me rooftop shout. Today one commenter wins double: Two (SIGNED!) Board Stiffs for the price of one (free)! The first Board Stiff (an Elliott Lisbon Mystery) is by me, and the second Board Stiff (a Dead-End Job Mystery) is by one of the nicest and most genuinely funny people, Elaine Viets.

HANK: So, Reds. It may be a first ever—but it’s headache day at Jungle Red. Anyone? 

(And my tips? Ah. No "white" food. Bread, pasta,  rice, potatoes. And for me, that meant even no white wine. And water water water. I could tell my migraines were coming because my shoulder would start to hurt. So weird!)  

Kendel Lynn is a Southern California native who now parks her flip-flops in Dallas, Texas. Her debut novel, Board Stiff, was an Agatha Award nominee for Best First Novel. It features Elliott Lisbon, a mostly amateur sleuth who has a slight aversion to all things germy and is only five thousand hours away from getting her South Carolina PI license. The latest, Swan Dive, released last week! Along with writing, Kendel spends her days as Managing Editor of Henery Press editing, designing, and reading subs from the slush pile.

A Matter of Trust--What would you do?

HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN:   It happens to me at the airport. I'm by myself, and waiting in my very good seat in the waiting area, and, um, I have to go to the bathroom. DO I give up my good seat, and lug all my stuff with me? Or do I look for a likely trust-worthy looking person and say--could you just watch this for me and I'll be right back?

Now, obviously, this is FRAUGHT. This is asking someone to do exactly what the security announcements say not to do. But in this case, I'd be the dangerous one, right? And I'm not. Of course that someone could steal all my stuff. So, sigh, I NEVER do it, but I always think of it.

Another time, on the airplane, I was having trouble getting into my 11A window seat--because I had a bag, and a latte, I couldn't navigate myself over the passenger in 11B. "Could you hold my latte for me?" I asked 11B. She looked at me like I was CRAZY. "No, I'm afraid not," she said. 

 

What a terrific photo of Diane Vallere!

So how do you know who  is trustworthy? That's what the fabulous (you know her,right?)  Diane Vallere is asking--

WHO DO YOU TRUST?

                        Diane Vallere

Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about trust, which I think is a very scary subject. Specifically, I’ve been wondering what it is about trust that makes us willing to gamble our emotional well being? Is it a currency with which we shop for people who become our closest confidents, or is it a measure by which we rule out wannabe friends and partners?

Not terribly long ago, I was talking about a mutual friend with some coworkers. “I like her, but I wouldn’t trust her as far as I can throw her,” said one. We all agreed. But on principle, it seems silly that we could acknowledge liking someone who we all know we wouldn’t trust. I couldn’t tell you what that person had done to make us all agree so quickly, but there it was: unanimous votes on untrustworthiness, cast in a matter of seconds. It would have taken longer to get us to agree on lunch.

It seems that every day we encounter strangers to whom we grant our trust: the mechanic who tells us that our car repairs are going to cost $900, the sales associate who says we look good in yellow, the Trader Joe’s employee who tells us we’ll really like the Malbec/Merlot blend. So we have the work done on our car, we buy the outfit, and we drink the wine. We trusted these strangers for no reason other than we wanted to.

But maybe the car didn’t really need that much work. Does it hurt as much to learn that the mechanic lied as it does when a loved one tells us they read our private journal? Not really. 

So why does it bother us so much when a person we’re close to violates our trust? Because it tells us something about that person, or because it tells us something about ourselves?

I think a lot about trust when I’m working on a book. Everybody in a character’s life can’t be trustworthy; it goes against the laws of real life. But in a mystery, where characters often aren’t what they seem, does trust play the same role as coincidence? Is it a plot device to move a scene forward, or is it an honest-to-goodness reflection of our own desire to believe the best about human nature when surrounded by the worst?

No actual teddies were loaned for this blog

When we trust someone, we become vulnerable. It’s like extending a valuable part of ourselves in the hopes that the person we trust will treat it with the respect it deserves.

It’s kind of like loaning out your teddy bear. Scary subject, indeed!

HANK:  Would you ask a stranger to hold your latte? Would you ask a stranger to hold your baby?  Have you ever trusted someone you shouldn't?

And trust me on this--one lucky commenter will win Diane's new book!

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Diane Vallere lives in a world where popcorn is a breakfast food and Doris Day movies are revered for their cultural significance. After over twenty years in the fashion industry, she now writes full time, juggling the Mad for Mod series, the Style & Error series, and the upcoming Material Witness series. She launched her own detective agency at age ten and has maintained a passion for shoes, clues, and clothes ever since. Find her at http://www.dianevallere.com/.

THAT TOUCH OF INK

When interior decorator Madison Night receives a five thousand dollar bill in the mail, she knows it's a message from her past. But when she discovers a corpse while trying to learn of the bill's value, Madison suspects her former lover wants more than a reconciliation. His actions belie his intentions, and even a gallon of daisy yellow paint can't hide the writing on the wall. Madison follows a circuit of rare dollars and common sense and discovers a counterfeit operation, a jealous lover, and the true value of her independence.