Jodi Bryant sees Melbourne through a killer migraine for son's basketball tournament

Melbourne - love it there, even with a killer migraine.

A place is often tainted by a bad experience there and, for me, Melbourne sure should be tainted.

But as I peered out the Uber taxi's window at the lit-up city at 4am, with a throbbing head, on the way back from the emergency department, I couldn't help but like the place.

I didn't think I would, to be honest. I was there for my son's basketball tournament and Mum and I spent the first three nights in a small town called Dandenong, where the tournament was held.

The basketball was great but I was itching to get into the city we had only sped through at midnight from the airport.

It wasn't supposed to be a midnight arrival. On the day we flew out, the weather at home was atrocious and Whangarei flights were cancelled. This meant sitting on a crappy school-type bus to Auckland where we'd missed our flights to Melbourne and were placed on a later one.

I started to go downhill on this bus ride to Auckland. My son, the basketballer, was very sick earlier that week; not ideal after a year-long build-up to an overseas sporting trip. He was still sick enough to admit pre-flight at Auckland Airport that he probably shouldn't be going. His coaches said they'd take care of him and, in the end, he was pleased he went.

Meanwhile, his sister had also gone down with it and, while nursing them, packing for us and trying to meet a monthly deadline the day before I flew out, I managed to catch it, too.

When our names were called out at Auckland Airport, we wondered ''what next?'' but were surprised to have been upgraded to first class. After the day we'd had, I wasn't even going to ask why.

Our first destination at Dandenong was the 24-hour pharmacy where I purchased enough to get me through the tournament.

The Dandenong Ranges and pretty townships lie to the east of Melbourne.

But heading into back into Melbourne after the tourney is a blur and on arriving at our mid-city hotel I lay straight down on the bed and couldn't get up. It turns out I was in the grips of my first migraine (I have new empathy for those who suffer), coupled with a virus and fever that was making me paranoid enough to think I was going to die in that hotel room.

But right then I didn't care, such was the pain. Except the thought of my kids prompted me to call Mum and admit I needed medical help.

Reception staff were excellent and escorted Mum and me, in my zombie-state, out into the bustling city to the awaiting taxi. At St Vincent's Hospital the receptionist asked a volley of questions but migraines render one incapable of functioning and Mum was left to do the talking. I sure felt like a rude Kiwi.

Over the next eight hours I was hooked up to a drip and had bloods and swabs taken. I had no idea a swab could be taken in one particular manner and let's just say I had to be pinned down. A torrent of questions from various nurses and doctors were redirected to Mum as I was too sick to even lift my head to take the medication. All the while, I had uncontrollable shakes which pre-heated blankets helped alleviate.

Despite my state, I was feeling like a complete drama queen and it was highly embarrassing – especially when the orderly wheeled me through the brightly lit corridor hooked to the drip with a mask over my face (until they ruled out flu), with everyone peering down at me.

We spent the next few hours behind a curtain trying to control the pain and listening to the dramas of an ED on a Sunday night in Melbourne. Mum had been an absolute trooper, not leaving my side, and I hoped she was getting some entertainment from it at least.

After they ruled out anything sinister, I had the option of going home or staying. But we needed sleep and it wasn't going to happen there so we checked out and Uber-ed back to the hotel.

''As I peered out the Uber taxi's window at the lit-up city at 4am, with a throbbing head, on the way back from the emergency department, I couldn't help but like the place.''

We had one day left to explore the city so we crammed as much in as we could, albeit at a slower pace. The 3.30am journey home was relatively uneventful, apart from being frisked for explosives then later being asked if I wanted a private room while they searched my trousers.

Melbourne was good to me – I had taken the bugs from NZ – so I shall just have to go back.