МДПшников и других психов от головной боли, даже от мигрени, может спасти... правильно - сексуальная разрядка. Вот здоровская статья автора Lia Serbyn на эту тему:
My migraines date back to (surprise!) starting my first real job after college – in the federal government. One night, I awoke to find the right side of my head throbbing and seemingly on fire. I couldn’t have lights on. I was nauseous. Noises and smells of any kind exacerbated the pain. Way back in high school, I had been convinced that I had every disease and disorder on the planet; I was perhaps the world’s youngest and most prolific hypochondriac. Instead of brushing up on my Edith Hamilton, I was researching bone cancer in the library. I could be heard diagnosing not only myself, but friends with any symptom in the hallways between classes. Eventually, I got over it with a little help from my parents’ threats to really give me a reason to want to kick off.
That is, until that night when I got my first migraine. The working half of my brain cried out: “Aneurysm! Subdural hematoma! Stroke!” All of my teenage panic quickly came flooding back, and this did nothing to help my heart which then underwent a series of premature ventricular contractions. Wait, now I had to worry about heart failure, too? All I could do was take handfuls of ibuprofen, which my already IBS-ridden G.I. tract really enjoyed. But it allayed the brain pain to a mildly functioning degree – think Paris Hilton’s mind on a really good day.
I quickly dispatched myself to a neurologist, a female doctor who I was convinced had gotten kicked out of a Russian spy ring. She was colder than Siberia. Making me feel like a crybaby, she efficiently dictated notes about me, in front of me, Ninotchka-style, and shooed me out with a script for Midrin, a primitive vasoconstrictor. Didn’t work. Harumph – maybe in Siberia!
Feeling rather inferior to Dr. Ninotchka and the superior brain behind her Garbo-like visage, I visited another doctor. This guy ordered CT scans and MRIs. (My inner-hypochondriac was in 7th heaven!) He poked, he prodded, had me stand on one leg, and banged on my nerves with percussion hammers. The diagnosis: Migraine. Finally. The medication: Imitrex, another, more expensive vasoconstrictor, known as a triptan. Triptans bind to serotonin receptors in the brain. This doc also wrote a prescription for Zofran, which at the time was the most fashionable anti-nausea medication on the market (read: expensive). These worked for a little while. I was also put on opiates (made everything worse), and Axert, a triptan similar to Imitrex. Nothing seemed to be helping, and I was sure there was an elusive brain tumor lurking somewhere in my upstairs.
Next came the shots, a series of injections into the nerves at the base of my skull. The medicines in these shots were anesthetics and steroidal anti-inflammatories (cortisone). The doctor’s reasoning for this treatment was that a nerve in my neck impinged by a bulging disc was kicking off the migraines. At that time, Botox was not yet approved by the FDA for migraines. (As of last year, it is.) I was disappointed. But if I had to get crow’s feet, at least I wouldn’t be getting neck wrinkles.
Said shots worked for a little while and then lost their efficacy. I was put on beta-blockers, which block amphetamine and stress hormones in your body. Nope. Neurontin, which is an anti-seizure medication. Nada. Mine was a tough nut to crack. I resorted to tearing up my G.I. tract with ibuprofen again. I stopped drinking red wine. I stopped eating anything with sulfites and nitrites, but I was not about to give up my now-and-then martini. My preventative anti-dehydration technique was Pedialyte. (Oh, it’s not just for children anymore.) I was scared of the wood resin in Gatorade. (WTF?) I tried small amounts of caffeine to shrink my tortured blood vessels. I was terrified to exercise, even though one female friend told me that working out actually staved off her migraine when she felt one coming on. I’m sure some of these approaches did reduce the number of migraines I was getting, but they sure as hell didn’t eliminate them.
The only culprit left was hormones. I kept a migraine journal: Dear Diary: Today my head nearly exploded in a meeting with our relocation contractor. P.S. I have a crush on X in the property management division. I started to notice patterns around That Time of the Month: PMS and all its other wonderful gifts often included migraines. I started dialing M for Menstruation Migraine. Turns out, about 70% of migraine sufferers are women. When estrogen and progesterone drop to their lowest levels, this can trigger a migraine. However, in menopausal women, hormone replacement therapy and high levels of estrogen can also cause migraines. Why didn’t Ninotchka tell me this? I felt betrayed. Was this some pharmaceutical plot to dope me up on numerous useless meds? Surely all the factors I just mentioned worked in tandem to make my head feel like well-trod speed bump.
Now – speaking of bumps (or humps) – it must be no coincidence that after hanky-panky and “la petite mort,” I’ve gotten some horrid migraines. Obviously, the rise in blood pressure courtesy of epinephrine released by the brain could be one cause of migraines, but what about the hormonal aspect of the big O (or even little o)? I decided to do some field work post-haste, for the good of migraine sufferers everywhere. On most occasions, the results were at best, satisfactory and positive. But there were a handful of times after having an orgasm that it literally felt like some evil parasite had reached adulthood and wanted out, NOW, through my occipital bone (post-dural headache, if you wanna get fancy).
Estrogen contributes to sexual desire in women, so logically, if it’s being released in high levels, why would a migraine occur? Recall that decreased estrogen is one culprit of migraines, as is decreased serotonin. Testosterone – also present in females – plays a role in migraines, too, but again, only when presenting at low levels. I’ve talked to male friends who experience migraines, and a few of them sometimes suffer from the mysterious and unwelcome post-sex/orgasm migraine.
But ladies and gentlemen, do not despair, in most cases orgasms can actually alleviate migraines. Do your own field work and hopefully you will never have to utter the words, “Not tonight, honey, I have a skull-crushing migraine.” And you may find that in addition to dietary changes and regular exercise, a good old-fashioned roll in the hay may be just the cure you’re seeking for your migraine madness.
http://blisstree.com/feel/an-orgasm-may-just-cure-your-migraine/
My migraines date back to (surprise!) starting my first real job after college – in the federal government. One night, I awoke to find the right side of my head throbbing and seemingly on fire. I couldn’t have lights on. I was nauseous. Noises and smells of any kind exacerbated the pain. Way back in high school, I had been convinced that I had every disease and disorder on the planet; I was perhaps the world’s youngest and most prolific hypochondriac. Instead of brushing up on my Edith Hamilton, I was researching bone cancer in the library. I could be heard diagnosing not only myself, but friends with any symptom in the hallways between classes. Eventually, I got over it with a little help from my parents’ threats to really give me a reason to want to kick off.
That is, until that night when I got my first migraine. The working half of my brain cried out: “Aneurysm! Subdural hematoma! Stroke!” All of my teenage panic quickly came flooding back, and this did nothing to help my heart which then underwent a series of premature ventricular contractions. Wait, now I had to worry about heart failure, too? All I could do was take handfuls of ibuprofen, which my already IBS-ridden G.I. tract really enjoyed. But it allayed the brain pain to a mildly functioning degree – think Paris Hilton’s mind on a really good day.
I quickly dispatched myself to a neurologist, a female doctor who I was convinced had gotten kicked out of a Russian spy ring. She was colder than Siberia. Making me feel like a crybaby, she efficiently dictated notes about me, in front of me, Ninotchka-style, and shooed me out with a script for Midrin, a primitive vasoconstrictor. Didn’t work. Harumph – maybe in Siberia!
Feeling rather inferior to Dr. Ninotchka and the superior brain behind her Garbo-like visage, I visited another doctor. This guy ordered CT scans and MRIs. (My inner-hypochondriac was in 7th heaven!) He poked, he prodded, had me stand on one leg, and banged on my nerves with percussion hammers. The diagnosis: Migraine. Finally. The medication: Imitrex, another, more expensive vasoconstrictor, known as a triptan. Triptans bind to serotonin receptors in the brain. This doc also wrote a prescription for Zofran, which at the time was the most fashionable anti-nausea medication on the market (read: expensive). These worked for a little while. I was also put on opiates (made everything worse), and Axert, a triptan similar to Imitrex. Nothing seemed to be helping, and I was sure there was an elusive brain tumor lurking somewhere in my upstairs.
Next came the shots, a series of injections into the nerves at the base of my skull. The medicines in these shots were anesthetics and steroidal anti-inflammatories (cortisone). The doctor’s reasoning for this treatment was that a nerve in my neck impinged by a bulging disc was kicking off the migraines. At that time, Botox was not yet approved by the FDA for migraines. (As of last year, it is.) I was disappointed. But if I had to get crow’s feet, at least I wouldn’t be getting neck wrinkles.
Said shots worked for a little while and then lost their efficacy. I was put on beta-blockers, which block amphetamine and stress hormones in your body. Nope. Neurontin, which is an anti-seizure medication. Nada. Mine was a tough nut to crack. I resorted to tearing up my G.I. tract with ibuprofen again. I stopped drinking red wine. I stopped eating anything with sulfites and nitrites, but I was not about to give up my now-and-then martini. My preventative anti-dehydration technique was Pedialyte. (Oh, it’s not just for children anymore.) I was scared of the wood resin in Gatorade. (WTF?) I tried small amounts of caffeine to shrink my tortured blood vessels. I was terrified to exercise, even though one female friend told me that working out actually staved off her migraine when she felt one coming on. I’m sure some of these approaches did reduce the number of migraines I was getting, but they sure as hell didn’t eliminate them.
The only culprit left was hormones. I kept a migraine journal: Dear Diary: Today my head nearly exploded in a meeting with our relocation contractor. P.S. I have a crush on X in the property management division. I started to notice patterns around That Time of the Month: PMS and all its other wonderful gifts often included migraines. I started dialing M for Menstruation Migraine. Turns out, about 70% of migraine sufferers are women. When estrogen and progesterone drop to their lowest levels, this can trigger a migraine. However, in menopausal women, hormone replacement therapy and high levels of estrogen can also cause migraines. Why didn’t Ninotchka tell me this? I felt betrayed. Was this some pharmaceutical plot to dope me up on numerous useless meds? Surely all the factors I just mentioned worked in tandem to make my head feel like well-trod speed bump.
Now – speaking of bumps (or humps) – it must be no coincidence that after hanky-panky and “la petite mort,” I’ve gotten some horrid migraines. Obviously, the rise in blood pressure courtesy of epinephrine released by the brain could be one cause of migraines, but what about the hormonal aspect of the big O (or even little o)? I decided to do some field work post-haste, for the good of migraine sufferers everywhere. On most occasions, the results were at best, satisfactory and positive. But there were a handful of times after having an orgasm that it literally felt like some evil parasite had reached adulthood and wanted out, NOW, through my occipital bone (post-dural headache, if you wanna get fancy).
Estrogen contributes to sexual desire in women, so logically, if it’s being released in high levels, why would a migraine occur? Recall that decreased estrogen is one culprit of migraines, as is decreased serotonin. Testosterone – also present in females – plays a role in migraines, too, but again, only when presenting at low levels. I’ve talked to male friends who experience migraines, and a few of them sometimes suffer from the mysterious and unwelcome post-sex/orgasm migraine.
But ladies and gentlemen, do not despair, in most cases orgasms can actually alleviate migraines. Do your own field work and hopefully you will never have to utter the words, “Not tonight, honey, I have a skull-crushing migraine.” And you may find that in addition to dietary changes and regular exercise, a good old-fashioned roll in the hay may be just the cure you’re seeking for your migraine madness.
http://blisstree.com/feel/an-orgasm-may-just-cure-your-migraine/
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