I was 30 when my first “bad migraine” hit. I’d just finished teaching a math lesson to my 3rd graders, and suddenly, a sharp pain exploded behind my right eye—so intense I had to sit down on the classroom floor. The lights felt like they were burning my skin, and the sound of kids laughing in the hallway made my head throb. My principal drove me home, and I spent the next two days in a dark bedroom, vomiting from the pain. I thought it was a one-time thing—until it happened again a month later.

Over the next 12 years, chronic migraines became my constant companion. I’d get 8–10 migraines a month, each lasting 3–5 days. I missed 20+ days of work a year, turned down birthday parties and family trips, and stopped doing the things I loved—like painting and playing the guitar—because even the smallest amount of light or sound would trigger a attack. I saw 6 different doctors: some told me “it’s just stress,” others prescribed strong painkillers that made me groggy (but didn’t stop the migraines), and one even suggested I “just relax more.” By 2023, I was sad. I’d started to believe I’d spend the rest of my life in pain—and that I’d never be the teacher, friend, or wife I wanted to be.

The Day I Stopped “Accepting” the Pain

My breaking point came in March 2023. I’d promised my niece, Lila, I’d go to her dance recital—something she’d been talking about for months. But the morning of the recital, a migraine hit. I lay in bed listening to Lila’s voice over the phone, saying, “Aunt Clara, are you coming?” and I cried. I couldn’t keep letting migraines steal the important moments. That afternoon, I searched online for “chronic migraine specialists” and found Hope Medical’s Headache & Pain Management Center. The first review I read was from a woman who’d had migraines for 10 years: “They didn’t just give me pills—they found why I was in pain.” I called and booked an appointment that day.

A Team That Asked “Why,” Not Just “How Bad”

My first visit was with Dr. Nathan Reed, a neurologist who specialized in chronic headaches. Unlike other doctors, he didn’t rush me through a list of symptoms. He brought out a notebook and said, “Let’s map every migraine you’ve had in the last 3 months—when they started, what you ate that day, how you slept, even how you felt emotionally.” It took an hour, but by the end, we had a pattern: My migraines almost always hit on Mondays (after a busy weekend with my family) or when I’d had less than 6 hours of sleep. They also got worse when I drank red wine (my favorite) or ate aged cheese (which I loved on weekends).

Dr. Reed didn’t stop there. He ordered a sleep study (to check for sleep apnea, which can trigger migraines) and a nerve conduction test (to rule out nerve damage in my neck). Two weeks later, we had answers: I had mild sleep apnea (which meant I wasn’t getting restful sleep, even when I “slept 8 hours”) and a slight misalignment in my upper neck (from hunching over lesson plans all day). “Your migraines aren’t ‘just stress’—they’re a mix of physical and lifestyle triggers,” Dr. Reed said. “We’re going to treat all of it.”

His plan was simple, but targeted:

He also introduced me to Maria, a headache coach who checked in with me every week. When I told her I was sad about giving up red wine, she suggested trying sparkling rosé (which has less of the migraine-triggering compound tyramine) and even sent me a list of low-tyramine cheeses I could still enjoy. “This isn’t about giving up everything you love,” she said. “It’s about finding what works for your body.”

The First Month Without a Migraine—In 12 Years

The first two weeks were tough. Getting used to the CPAP machine took time (I kept taking it off in my sleep), and the physical therapy stretches made my neck sore. But Maria encouraged me: “Stick with it—your body’s adjusting.” By the third week, something changed. I slept through the night for the first time in years, and I didn’t wake up with that “tight” feeling in my neck. On a Monday morning—usually a migraine day—I walked into my classroom, turned on the lights, and felt… normal. No pain, no sensitivity, no nausea. I almost cried.

By the end of the first month, I’d gone 30 days without a single migraine. I went to Lila’s next dance recital—front row, with the lights on—and cheered so loud she waved right at me. I picked up my guitar again (I even played “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” for my students, and they clapped so hard their hands turned red). I missed zero days of work that month—and for the first time in years, I didn’t have to keep a “migraine emergency kit” in my desk (filled with painkillers, dark sunglasses, and a cold pack).

Today: Migraines No Longer Define Me

It’s been a year since I started working with Hope Medical’s team. I still get a mild headache every now and then—usually when I skip physical therapy or stay up too late—but it’s nothing like the migraines I used to have. I can take a Tylenol and go about my day, instead of being bedridden for days. My A1C is normal, my neck pain is gone, and I even joined a painting class with my sister (something I’d avoided for years because bright paint colors used to trigger migraines).

Last month, I brought my students to Hope Medical for a “Careers in Medicine” field trip. Dr. Reed talked to them about being a neurologist, and Maria showed them how to do simple neck stretches (they loved it—now they ask to do “migraine stretches” before class). Afterward, Dr. Reed said, “You’re not just a patient—you’re an inspiration.” But the truth is, they’re the ones who inspired me. They showed me that chronic pain doesn’t have to be forever—and that there are people who will take the time to understand, listen, and help.

If you’re living with chronic migraines, I know how hopeless it can feel. I know you’ve probably heard “it’s just stress” or “you need to relax more.” But don’t give up. There are teams like Hope Medical who will look deeper, ask “why,” and build a plan that works for you. I never thought I’d be able to teach a full day without pain, or watch my niece dance, or play guitar again—but here I am.

Migraines used to define me. Now, they’re just a small part of my past. And that’s all thanks to Hope Medical.