McCain was speaking as the guest of honor at a luncheon given by the A.H.S. in a private room at Le Bernardin. (The next day, in Philadelphia, she would be the keynote speaker at the Fourteenth Congress of the International Headache Society.) She was dressed in spectator pumps and a chartreuse piqué suit. Everything about her seemed lemony—tart yellow bob, pursed lips. Her commentary, aided by a stack of blue index cards—one listed migraine sufferers in history: “THOMAS JEFFERSON, JOAN OF ARC, VIRGINIA WOOLF”—was astringent. She recalled, “The first doctor I went to basically said, ‘Well, you’re just neurotic, you’re just stressed, your husband’s a senator. Go home, put your feet up, and have a drink.’ ” She continued, “What affected me the most was being talked to like I was dumb. That infuriated me.” McCain has decided to become an advocate for the disorder, which, in her view, is a disability. “I’ve missed part of my life. I’ve missed my children in many ways,” she said. “I’ve made every important event, but there’re times I’ve been throwing up out the car window.”
Treating migraine is an inexact science. McCain has tried everything: acupuncture, acupressure, massage, tricyclics, analgesics, biofeedback. Once, in the Micronesian islands of Yap, where she had travelled as part of a charity mission, a medicine man crushed up some guava leaves and stuck them in her mouth. (“It did help,” she said.) McCain adheres to a daily regimen of pills to manage the condition, and this year she participated in a clinical trial to test the effectiveness of Botox in alleviating migraine. “You know, they ring your head in it,” she said. “It hurts like the dickens. But I’ll do anything, including chew broken glass, if it would help me get rid of this.”
Her goal is to raise money for research into treatments explicitly for migraine. At Le Bernardin, she said, “For the first time in my life, I’m going to go to Congress, and I’m going to be tenacious and be forceful and be honest and tell them that it’s time. If you can give five million dollars to study flatulence in cows and its effects on the ozone layer, you can give me some money for migraine research.”
McCain is also considering making a video diary of a migraine, in the mode of Farrah Fawcett’s cancer documentary. “It’s so dramatic when it happens,” she said. “I wind up going into an infusion unit, and it’s traumatic, because I’m a hard stick, and I’m crying half the time.” She paused. “People don’t really understand, because a headache’s more than just a headache.” ♦
