dealing

So I cried yesterday.

It was the first time since I relapsed that I cried.

I decided to unload the dishwasher, this, after I watched my partner run around the house cleaning and doing laundry and preparing food and making the house look semi-decent.

You know, the things I normally do on a daily basis.

It's funny how much we've both come to take those things for granted.  Well, she doesn't take them for granted, she says.  She's very grateful for what I do.  She jokes and says she can't wait for me to get better this time because she can't believe just how much I actually do as a "stay-at-home mom" and a "sick" one at that!

But I felt very guilty just sitting there while she worked around me.  I had to do something.


I figured how bad could the dishwasher be.

For an educated person, I can be pretty stupid sometimes.

Just the act of unloading a dishwasher involves looking down and reaching up at several different levels over and over again.  Stopping.  Sorting.  Looking at different vantage points.  Bringing your head down.  Turning it one way.  Turning it another.  If I were designing a vestibular therapy exercise, in fact, I would set up a mock kitchen and have my patients load and unload a dishwasher.  It's quite a functional exercise.

But I was not in therapy, I was home.  And halfway through unloading, I felt the floor come up to meet me.  I held onto the counter for dear life.  That's when the tears came.

Of course my partner scolded me for getting off the couch.  I told her I wanted to help and cried some more.  Then she scolded me for crying (there are no "pity parties" in my house).  She also reminded me it wasn't good for my little one to see me upset (she's right, of course).

Still, I was almost relieved I cried.  I was beginning to think I was incapable of crying.  Now that it was done and out, I felt like I could deal with this relapse.  I think.

And then I went to balance therapy.  I saw the same guy I saw last time.  He did some eye exercises with me, then went on to a few more challenging things.  He was concerned, and, I don't know, puzzled?  I feel way less puzzled than he about this relapse.  To me, this is standard; I will relapse.  Should I not be while in therapy?

While there, I saw one of my regular therapists, who learned of my relapse.  He was surprised and disappointed.  He also got to see me fall.  Twice.  After the second time, my therapist called it quits for the night.

I tried to keep up a cheerful front during therapy...I don't know, so they don't think I'm panicking or something.  Deep down, where nobody sees, my panic is real.  Not about this particular relapse, but about my condition overall.  About its permanence.  About how much it has stolen from me and how much it will continue to steal from me.

I wonder if anyone will help me for good, or if this is as good as it gets?

vertigo happens

Yesterday's therapy was definitely interesting.  They called in the troops.  (Have I mentioned that I love this place?  I will, about a million times.)

At first they were puzzled at my relapse.  I was doing so well.  Yeah, I've heard that before.  But I knew not to panic this time.  These people taught me that.

These particular therapists were not my "regulars," so I explained how long I'd been at this, and what could possibly be at work here, my new medication, the weather, or just because.  Just because this is the third January in a row this has happened to me.  For no other apparent reason than it being January.  Only this time I've been doing everything to prevent it and it still decided to happen.  So, I guess my vestibular system really, really hates January for some unknown reason.  

The aide knew he couldn't do anything with me, so he called in the assistant who was supposed to be working with me (often at physical therapy establishments, therapists or assistants who work with patients will have aides go through exercises or therapies with patients who are doing well, especially when said therapists or assistants are finishing up with their last patient.  It's common practice.  I have seen this in every establishment I have been to -- sometimes they even employ the services of interns for this purpose).

The assistant came in and evaluated my situation.  He saw I was in a bad way, so he said he'd do a Hallipike maneuver to see if he observed any nystagmus.  He had me sit down with my legs in front of me then dropped me down quick with my head to the left.  As I felt the familiar dizziness come over me, he told me that he did, indeed, see my eyes pulse, or move, or whatever nystagmus looks like.  He had me collect myself and then repeated on the right.  I felt fine and said, "no, this side's ok." Just as the words came out of my lips, the world spun out of control and my eyes started fluttering.  Rolling around in my head like something out of a horror movie is more like it.  I heard his voice from a foggy distance, "what's happening?" and I knew I had to answer or he'd think I was seizuring.  "That's just my body's neurological response," I tried to explain.  I felt like hell.  He had me ride out the dizzy wave and then had me sit up.

He called in someone else, whom I assume was a therapist, and we then worked on eye exercises and head turns, all seated.  This was a far cry from what I had been doing this past few months, but vertigo happens.

My "homework" is simple, back-to-basic seated exercises.  And, yet, they still make me dizzy.  It is what it is.

I had one moment today of "what if?" (what if I never get better?  what if the exercises never work?  what if my condition never improves?  what if I can never go to work?).  My partner said we'll get by.  I love her for that.  I hate that I have to ask.  But, apparently, vertigo is going to keep on happening and happening and happening and...

holding on

I woke up today and, right off the bat, I realized that getting to the bathroom was not going to be as easy as it usually was.

When I stepped onto the floor, I felt everything tilt and I stumbled until I hit the wall.

It was as if I had been at sea for months and I hadn't gotten my sea legs and recovering from a hangover without the fun of the drink the night before.

here I go again...


I knew this day was coming.  I just didn't know when.  And now I kinda felt like Chicken Little with pieces of sky in my face.  This is not an "I told you so" you want to have right.

But with a vestibular disorder, you're always Chicken Little and the sky is always falling.  No one wants to think so, but you can go from perfect to horrible in the blink of an eye.

Let me start from the beginning.  I'll try not to be too boring.

11 years ago this past Christmas Eve, I joined the ranks of the dizzy.  It was much worse than it is now.  Much, much worse.  At first, I thought I was having seizures, but I was awake.  My eyes rolled up in my head and my body would shudder violently.  (My moronic fiancee...now my ex-husband...didn't get me immediate medical care because he feared the hospital testing me for drugs!  We smoked a little pot.  For Christ's sake, I would have taken HIM if we had just shot up heroin and done twenty lines of coke, but, like I said, he's a moron).

When the attacks continued, we finally did go to an emergency room, where they told us to follow up with a neurologist.  On our way there, I fell in the parking lot, which happened to be adjacent to another hospital.  The neurologist's office said to bring me to the hospital instead, where they told me it was "stress" and sent me home with Xanax and Zoloft.  THAT made things 1000 times worse.  Within a day, we were calling an ambulance from my house, but since the EMT's didn't know what to make of me, they were asking me in the ambulance if I were being beaten.

I took many tests and spoke to many people at the hospital.  Finally, an Ear, Nose and Throat doctor told me he knew what was wrong with me...Labrynthitis, a severe infection of the inner ear that causes vertigo like mine.  He said the vertigo could take a few weeks to go away and he prescribed steroids and further testing at his office.

That should be the end of the story.  But it isn't.

His testing revealed "central nervous system damage" (whatever that meant).  He told me to follow up with a neurologist.

And so my nightmare with doctors began.

I saw doctor after doctor, had test after test.  No one could put a finger on what was wrong with me.  Some told me it was "in my head."  Some misdiagnosed me.

I lost the support of most of my family and friends because of my depression and the actions it led me to do. And because they didn't really think I was "sick."

I had to keep researching myself, finding answers, support, weeding out bad doctors, unhealthy relationships.  It has not been easy.

Two years ago, I decided to go back to the beginning.  An ENT and have him retest me.  Same results.  My inner ear is messed up.  From there, I tried some physical therapy.  That therapist sent me to a neurologist, who sent me for some testing.  That testing is what led me to my current treatment with a practice who finally understands how all this works...the vestibular system.  Every question I ask, they can answer.  They understand WHY my body does what it does.  HOW my lazy eye affects my improvement.  HOW neurology plays a part in the vestibular system.  EVERYTHING.  Even how psychology plays a role.  Amazing.

So, back to today.  I knew it would come.  How many times have I had relapses?  Too many.  I haven't had    one since I've started balance therapy at this place, though, but I'm glad I have them.  And I'm glad I have an appointment tomorrow.  I know they will help me through this one.