good to know

I met with Stacy on Monday.  but while I was waiting to see her, I asked one of the receptionists how many more visits I had.

I may have explained this before, but with my insurance, I'm entitled to roughly 20 visits.  after that, my therapist can assess me and extend my therapy for roughly 20 more, but that is all that I am entitled to for the entire year, regardless of my medical need. so if I get hit by a truck and then need more physical therapy, apparently, I would be out of luck until a year has passed.  so it is in my best interest to not use up every single one of my physical therapy visits just on balance therapy, just in case.

so, the receptionist told me, "oh, this is visit 20 of 20."

really?  when did they plan on telling me this?  wow.

I felt like someone had pulled the rug out from under me.  I wasn't ready yet.

other times I had gone to physical therapy, I had known in advance when my last day was coming.  I usually brought something in for the therapists as a "thank you" gift, like cookies or something.  one practice awards "graduates" with shirts and other tokens when they have completed their therapy.  this seemed a bit cold.

I had been seeing these people for months.  joking with them.  crying to them.  and now, because of an arbitrary number set by the government, it was suddenly going to be over.  one of my few links to the "outside world."  I know I'm taking this way too hard, but my world is very small, and it was about to become even smaller.

so, Stacy came for me and took me to a treatment room so we could discuss my progress.  she gave me a few questionnaires to fill out, rating scales which measure my confidence and depression levels.

funny thing about that.  since I've studied about these kind of tests and administered them myself, I'm always guessing at what "they" are looking for, and not always what I really feel.  it's a terrible way to be, I know.  but it's like trying to unlearn to read.  you can't do it.  try it.  just try to look at a page of written words without reading them.  yeah, I thought so.

well, I knew that I couldn't seem too depressed and I had to show more confidence than the last time I took these tests and, well, maybe I have progressed somewhat anyway, I don't know.  it's hard to be honest when you are trying to not be honest.

in any case, Stacy was happy with my answers, and that's what matters.  right?

she told me that we will have a few more sessions where we will plan my dismissal.  she'd make sure I was all set with home exercise.

that's when I told her about my little experiment with home exercise.  I was ready for her to tell me it was anxiety again.

instead, she told me that I should get a cardiac workup, that what I described to her sounded cardiac.  I'm not gonna lie; I started crying.  not because I'm worried, but because I felt like an ass.

I don't even know why I felt stupid, though.  I guess because I have let doctors push me around and to the side so long and dismiss me, even when I feel things like this.  well, why shouldn't I?  I let other people do it, too.

I told her I would finally get a physical and go from there.  I also asked her if it would be possible to see the neurologist sooner than the end of June.  actually, I am seeing the nurse practioner and I want to see the doctor.  I didn't think that was unreasonable.  neither did Stacy.  she told me to tell this to the receptionists (p.s., they couldn't find me an appointment with him).  we then had our normal session and I was on my way.

since then, I've made an appointment with my primary care doctor for a physical. I've been exercising some. other than that, business as usual.

taming the migraine

I got in to see the nurse practitioner Monday.

she made an adjustment to my medication.  she also gave me an "emergency" migraine pill, to be taken when the headache is really bad.  it seemed to work pretty well.

I also went for an MRI of my neck.  this is because I discovered somewhere along the line that my neck has been hurting really badly.  the NP wants to check this out because I have had an old injury on my neck (whiplash) which has required physical therapy and she said this could be responsible for the headaches now.  she explained in detail how the nerves in the neck reach the nerves in the head and into the eye, where I have the most of my pain.  she also wants me to get physical therapy for my neck when I go for the other therapy.

we also talked about my progress at balance therapy (or lack thereof).  she was very frank with me.  she told me that, after 11+ years and this many months of therapy, it is what it is.  some people just have to learn to live with being dizzy.  however, the goal of balance therapy, she told me, is to learn to adapt to being dizzy.  be comfortable with it, if you will.  learn to live with being dizzy.

I'm going to be honest.  I'm not comfortable with being dizzy.  I'm not happy with it.  I'm not accepting of it.

I do understand it, for the most part.  I still don't know how I got it in the first place.  Or why I have to be one of the "chosen ones" who get to keep my vertigo where there are lots of "normies" walking around who get vertigo and it goes away.  It's just like everything else in my life.  If something unappealing and less desirable could happen to a person, it's going to happen to me.  I'll get the weird side effects of medications, I'll get the strange symptoms, the wrong diagnoses.  And, apparently, the less-likely ones, too.  Vertigo forever.  It could be the name of punk band.

I've gone twice to bathe dogs with Stacy.  I held up better than I thought I would.  there were times I got dizzy and tired, but I pushed through it.  if I'm going to be dizzy forever, I have to just cowgirl up and do things dizzy.  Now that sounds like a slogan..."Do things DIZZY"  should I put that on t-shirts?

sensitivity

yesterday, I worked a lot on VOR exercises (vestibulo-ocular reflex) in therapy.  they are, basically, the ones to stimulate the vestibular system in order for me to do everyday things.  for example, walking down a hallway while turning my head to simulate, well, walking anywhere while turning my head, but this is exaggerated and done over and over again.  I think I walked down the same hallway yesterday 20 times looking up, down, side-to-side and diagonally.  some of the motions made me more dizzy than others.  usually the up-and-down seems to get me.


I read in someone else's blog about something called cervical vertigo.  basically, this is vertigo caused by a compression of the nerves in your neck.  it got me wondering if this is, possibly, the cause of my vertigo.  I have been in physical therapy several times before for arthritis and this can be one of the causes.  also, I seem to have vertigo more when I move my head in certain positions than in others.  I don't know.  something to keep in my back pocket...


anyway, I did other VOR exercises, too, including my torturous B, and others, like standing on a rocking board and on a cushion.  I do all of these pretty well, now.  it's afterward that I may or may not have a problem.  still.  but this is progress, they tell me.  I'm doing better than when I started.  my little voice still wonders if I am just "over" my spell of vertigo for now and will it come back, or is this true progress?  it's scary.  because then things happen like the following:


I go on the treadmill, as I have been doing for weeks.  I'm with a different therapist (the one I was "short" with a while back, but it was all good), so she has her own way of working with me.  she has me gradually work up to the speed she wants me to walk at.  1.3, no problem.  1.5, trotting along.  1.7 this is cake.  then she hits 1.9.  this is still slower than the speed I usually walk at but for some reason, the machine starts making a weird grinding noise that my body cannot handle.  immediately, I go into "overload mode."  my eyes close of the own free will, my face grimaces (it's ugly, too), my muscles start contorting.  I start holding my breath involuntarily.  I am still walking the treadmill, but I start wondering if I am going to pass out right there.  my normal therapist sees this and asks if I am all right.  I find I can't exactly form words to answer her, just parts of words, but I am able to convey to her that I am not exactly "all right."  she reminds me to breathe and focus and comes over to lower the speed on the treadmill.  as soon as she does, the noise goes away and my body immediately relaxes.  an assistant is with her.  Stacy (my therapist) asks again if I am all right and I tell her that the machine was making a weird noise.  before I can say anything, the assistant asks me, "oh, you were afraid of it?" in a kind of nurturing, yet condescending voice.  What?


Stacy had  to go back to work with her patient a moment, and the assistant had gone with her.  I was alone on the treadmill, inwardly shaking my head (had I actually shook my head, I'd have been quite dizzy).  did she actually say that?  it was just a bizarre question...

when Stacy came back to check on me, I had to tell her, "I'm better now.  the sound apparently set me off or something.  she," making crazy eyes at the assistant, "thought I was afraid of the noise."  


while Stacy and Lauren (the therapist I am working with) talked about how the machine probably needs to be serviced, and that's where the noise came from, I didn't get the validation I had hoped for, like, "wow, what a crazy-assed, stupid, ignorant, uninformed, jerky, dumbass response to someone who has neurological responses to vertigo! I'm sorry you had to deal with that.  I'll let her know."  or something to that effect.


maybe I'm a little sensitive.  


maybe it's just that from working with and for people my whole life, I am hyper-aware of what comes out of my mouth at all times when dealing with people at all times.  I remember that they all have a story, a life, feelings, a family.  I don't know why, at this stage of my life, I am still shocked and amazed when other people don't.


and this was nothing.  seriously, nothing.  I know it was nothing.  she was just an idiot.  ok, not an idiot, she just was clueless.  


but, it's the tip of something much, much bigger that I have been holding onto and I am damned near ready to burst.


another post...perhaps another blog...

strength training and inner strength

so now my balance therapy has branched out.

when I go for my vestibular exercise, I get strength training.  it's way harder than I thought it would be.

I squat, I lift dumbbells, I use weight machines, I do resistance exercises.

I need this stuff.

I'm glad I made the decision to ask for this.  even when I am sore.

I'm also glad I made the decision to do this at the same place where I get my balance therapy, even though the orthopedist told me to go to a facility that specializes in arthritis.

fact is, I get dizzy when I work out.  so we have to deal with that.  the other place may or may not have been equipped for that.  besides, doesn't it make sense to have the same therapist track your progress?  and, since my neurologist is treating both my fibromyalgia and my vestibular dysfunction, he can prescribe as much physical therapy as I need.  not have me running all over the place.

when I'm lucky, I also get heat treatments, too.  I say "lucky" because only one therapist seems to give them to me.  not sure why.  I'm not the kind to ask for stuff like that.  I know I'm the patient, and it's my treatment, so I shouldn't feel that way.  but I do.  I feel that it is a luxury, like someone getting a poolside massage.  stupid, I know.

I feel this way about every aspect of my treatment lately...that I am on an extended vacation.  and I know why.

my girlfriend calls it, "people taking my inventory."  everybody does it.  I'm sick of it.  for example, my 9-year-old ASKING ME WHAT I DO ALL DAY!  (seriously??)

I've already mentioned my mom.  she goes in spurts. I'm just waiting til the next one.

I'm the worst offender, though.  because I know I'm not doing as much as I should.  as much as I want to be doing.  and then other people's criticisms ring in my ears and I'm paralyzed.  a self-fulfilling prophecy. I'm trying to work on it in talk therapy, but, until I come to some conclusion, health-wise, I don't know how far I will come.

it is hard for me to make a life for myself at home.  harder still when I get dizzy doing things that used to make me happy, like dancing, or taking long walks or driving.

I'm trying to push myself to do the things I used to do, because I'm unwilling to give up at 44 years old.  I used to live in a black hole.  I'll be damned if I'm falling back inside of there.

yes, for my kids, always for my kids, but for once, a tiny part of me says for ME, too.  (I can't tell you how my stomach churns when I think it...but I'm trying to believe it, anyway)

so, after I write this, I WILL get off the couch and practice SOMETHING.  some b's.  some squats.  play on the Wii.  I MUST motivate myself to move and, as much as I think I can't, I MUST move my head around.  I KNOW it will make me dizzy.  that is the point.  make myself a little dizzy each day and maybe I will be less dizzy someday...

My New "B" and Other Therapeutic Torture

The other day, I was stepped up to a different "B" in therapy.  For those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about, I'll explain (and, hopefully, provide a visual aide if I can figure out this blogging thing right).

You see, when I started balance therapy, among many of the exercises I have to do, one of them is the "dreaded B."  Basically, you're given a point to look at (in this case a letter "B"), and made to do things that normally evoke a dizzy response while focusing on this damned letter.  For example, moving your head from side to side, or up and down.  The basic "B" looks like this:

I had worked on the simple "B" for a while until I, apparently, mastered it, (got less dizzy while working with it), and then I graduated to this "B":

This "B" was supposed to be torturous, apparently.  When different therapists would see what "B" I was working on, they'd say stuff to me like, "Oh, God, poor you."  Or, "That one makes me dizzy."  But, for some reason, it didn't evoke any more of a response from me than a regular "B."  My guess is because of my crossed eye and my inability to see things 3-D like the rest of you people.  Since it's black-and-white, maybe it's not such a challenge for me?  I don't know...

Anyway, so I had my setback, and I went back to the simple "B" for a little while.  I also was working on some "B's on sticks."  Yep, that is just what is sounds like.  

I had to do some eye exercises and tracking with these lovely letters.  The purpose of these exercises were to try to strengthen my eyes, try to get them to work together, try to increase my peripheral vision and also to desensitize my responses to movement.  I am sure I will be doing lots more of this in visual therapy (I go for an evaluation February 6).

So, I saw my regular therapist on Monday and she re-assessed my progress.  She decided I could "graduate" again to this wonderful "B":

Yes, it's a checkerboard.  This one is supposed to be between a regular "B" and the crazy black-and-white one.  But for me this thing's a killer.  I can barely get through my exercises with it.  Hell, I can barely look at it right now on this screen!  It's that disturbing!

So, I do these lovely eye things in addition to any other physical torture they decide I need to endure that day.  It may be the treadmill or the stationary bike (physical exercise is important to everyone, but for us dizzy's, who tend to shy away from it, it is even more so...the benefits are enormous), standing on a wobbly board, walking around cones, balancing myself on a rocking board, standing on a cushion (simulating uneven surface), walking around while turning my head, throwing a ball, and on and on.  

More days than not, I leave there telling my partner, "they beat me up in there."  But I know it's for a reason.  

I laugh and call it  "therapeutic torture".  I'm trying to stay positive because it's the only way to stay out of the pity pot.  And because I feel I owe it to these therapists, to my partner, and especially to my kids and, yeah, to myself, to keep at this and try to get better.