Weather People are Imposters

Those people who stand before maps, pointing here and there, describing in phrases carefully learned in meteorology how 'this huge front is moving slowly, so by the time it reaches us, we'll be lucky to see a few sprinkles'. (Paraphrased since I am not a meteorologist)

Hubby says, 'Work tomorrow', while I'm gently shaking my head because the dizziness and exhaustion is telling me there's going to be a freaking deluge! 'Honey, better bring in the cows and batten the hatches because I'm telling you, this guy is off his rocker.' He laughed -surely because we have no cows, and there's not a single hatch to be found.

So this morning between the thunderclaps, the rain that sounded like a cow pissing on a flat rock, and a ringing in my ears that is so loud, I half expect the neighbor to send her kid over with ear plugs, I felt vindicated. DIZZY and vindicated. Being right isn't always all it's cracked up to be.

Nonetheless, I sit up on the side of my bed, take a few deeeep breaths and engage in 15 seconds of breathing meditation before getting up and making that 30' trek to the bathroom which is, in reality, only about 10' away. Vestibularly challenged people don't often take the shortest route between point A and B. We sort of ping off of the chair to the right, which sends them swaying over to bounce off the dresser on the left.... Think pinball.

It sounds bad, but really, it's like my very own Worlds of Fun ride. No lines, no waiting......and I always get to ride in the front!

Perspective and Focus

It occurred to me that it might be important to share that I can be a huge whiner. I recognized that in myself a few weeks ago (before the big garden-working day), and decided that I did not want to be that person.

Those things I write here are not always about things that come naturally. They are realized out of the necessity to find them, thanks to my commitment to write something positive, and life enriching every single day. This new outlook is a process, which involves breaking old and bad habits.  It takes work to not being the victim of one's own body.

I have intentionally placed myself  in a situation where I must find the joy, the peace, the lesson, my balance. And it is there, I assure you, even when my physical balance is challenged. And when it isn't, it is because I have become greedy, lazy, of overwhelmed, and have overlooked the fact that I have been given a whole new day - and that another whole, new day stands behind this one, waiting expectantly for me to search...and find the best of what it holds for me. And sometimes, it requires that I look at things differently.

DEFINE HEALING

I'm at the checkout with my newly prescribed meds for my nausea. I want little more than to get in my car, drive my happy butt home, and go to bed.
The woman there decides that while I'm writing out the check she should keep busy and wash her station which is off to my right. Spruurtspruurtspruurtcrinklecrinklecrinkle She moves her hand in short, circular motions.
"Ma'am, my name is MJ and I have an inner ear condition which makes me very dizzy. Would you mind stopping that just long enough for me to write me check?"
"Oh, absolutely."
She watched me closely then asked me, "Which ear?"
I just knew what was coming.
"May I", she asked as she reached out to place her hand on my left ear.
And before I knew it, this complete stranger was praying me healed. She never said anything out loud...she just did it. I appreciated the gesture and eventually placed my hand on hers.
"Thank-you."
"Do you believe yourself healed?"
"If by healed you mean I'm no longer dizzy, then no."
"Do you feel anything?"
"Yes...I do. I feel not alone, and cherished by a sister in Christ. Thank you for the blessing - it is a form of healing."
I don't say this lightly as, of late, I've been feeling a little peevish towards a large portion of those who call themselves 'Christian' but who display the very worst behaviors - not to mention that in a world where we're so 'trained' to flinch from a hand offered in friendship....or healing... Or a world where we're conditioned to mind our own P's and Q's...how could I not consider myself to to have been healed to some degree.
I smiled through the nausea and counted myself blessed.

My Battle of Mobile Bay!

Sing it with me:
The GP sent me to the Neuro,
The Neuro sent me to the Oto(laryngologist),
The Oto sent me to the Audio,
 And I'm still dizzy as a top!
 
Long story short, Oto misread Audio's report and wanted me to undergo a certain therapy that I am NOT a good candidate for, based on Audio's evaluation.

After informing the nurse, who was informing me, that the information she was givingme was incorrect, she skimmed through the notes and discovered I was correct. So she called me back yesterday to tell me that I was a poor candidate for Vestibular Rehab, and that I was to continue my current medications and call if my symptoms got worse. To what end?!

'Worse', it would seem, is subjective. After all, I went to them BECAUSE I was worse and while the migraine pain has abated, both the dizziness and strong ringing in my ears persist at this new, heightened level.

I processed this information for a bit. I felt like I'd been tossed in the middle of the ocean,and these doctors, nurses, tests, and symptoms - all torpedoes giving chase! They're everywhere - consuming our finances, my endurance, my well-being!

WHOA

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, imagining it as a white mist, curling up through my sinuses and up the back of my skull, engulfing the red clouds of frustration. And with each exhalation, my mind began to clear.

I am currently raising our FOURTH teenager - a girl this time, who has been living a menses hell and does things like proclaim before God and everyone,that her uterus is takng over her entire life thus MUST be Republican.

My oldest son ELOPED, for God's sake! And sat in MY house for hours, talking about the plans they had for their upcoming wedding! And he lives today!

I wrung my hands while two of our sons served this counry overseas! And giggled at their first letters where they refer to me, not as mom, but mommy. ;) Boot camp is hell.

I raised diapered ducks, for crying out loud, and took them to nursing homes!

I have been married to the same man, rain or shine, for THIRTY years. 'Nuff said.

There is just too much good stuff....funny stuff.....interesting stuff in my life, to let the high-paid idiots use me as a shuttlecock in their game of badminton.

So....damn the torpedoes, baby, and full speed ahead!

Irreverent Humor

If you haven't caught it, I am a private patient advocate.  Not only do I take care of the daily tasks of bathing, giving meds, and other necessities, but I fight with insurance companies, insure proper staffing for my patient's hospital care (she's a full quad), doctor shop with her, and accompany her to all doctor visits.  And - on those days when it strikes both our fancies, we go shopping.

This story happened back in the day when she could still control her electric wheelchair. 

On this day, having just freed her from the van, she headed across the parking lot while I stowed the van's lift as per usual.  I byuped the locks, and headed after this friend of mine when I noticed her rolling herself in through the exit. 

Ordinarily, I'm not an evil person - but I AM certifiable! I decided to tap into my 'crazy' - and knowing Di, I knew it would give her a good chuckle.  SO, I began to run towards her and yelled, "HEY, LADY!  Just because you're handicapped doesn't give you the right to go in any door you want!!!"

As expected - Di about choked on her own spit, she was laughing so hard, and I had tears rolling down my leg (not really).  What I hadn't counted on were the customers who had sort of gathered there, by the greeter, with confused looks on their faces.  And off we went, still chuckling.

And THAT, my friends, is how you place joy above symptoms!

POWER OUT

So it's raining.  Hard.  Me, I'm minding my own business, fatigued beyond reason and a growing pain behind my eyes. By 9, I make decision to embrace my leg pillow and knock myself out.  Suddenly, I'm sitting upright, having heard what sounds like a car crashing into my garage....or a pipe-bomb blowing up my neighbor's house. It's 4am, and the thunderstorm rages on. Two seconds later, a CLUNK - and the power goes out.

My Vesties (dizzy friends) who also have tinnitus will understand when I say - total silence is like torture, which is ironic because too much sound is just as bad.  But when total silence exists, there's this evil little creature that resides in the folds of our brains, that makes it his business to turn up the volume of the infernal ringing.  One day, I'm going to have my Honey press his ear against mine and make him listen for it!

NO!  NO NO!  I lay back in my bed, eyes wide open and noticing little flickers of light - my little friends, the aura fairies, dancing to the now VERY audible ringing and rumbling in my ears.  It's a party I refuse to attend!!!

Being the reasonable person that I am,  I close my eyes, determined to go back to sleep.  

*ten minutes later*

Turns out, when there's no power, Honey's c-pap machine won't work, and he's sawing enough logs to build us a 4000sq ft log cabin.

Hey....not his fault, so I gently cover him with a sheet, grab my pillow and head out for the couch. 

God, how I love this furniture.  Couch, love seat, recliner - all 'leather'.   It's a beautiful set. Did I mention that when the power went out, so did the air-conditioning.  Humidity increased to  the point one can literally step outside and drink the air.  I'm tempted to march myself back into that bedroom and steal the sheet off my husband's back.  After all - it's hot, right?  

At any rate, I finally fall asleep, and even wake in time to head out to work.

***
Honey knows I probably didn't sleep well and wants to know how I feel...at 8:30 this morning.

It's a trick question.  If I tell him I feel bad, then he forbids me (Yeah...I KNOW) from doing anything, then has to do everything himself, which results in a very Roman Catholic sense of guilt.  So, no matter how I feel, I make myself function.  I make myself shower, get dressed, and I carefully choose my attitude and accompanying smile. Then, despite orders to give up coffee, I feel crappy enough I make that one cup of half-caff, and take it outside to my new garden spot and sit next to my fountain, eyes closed.  I don't even feel like I'm cheating.

I breathe deep.  I don't ask for relief, I expect it.  The air is still humid, but the clouds are still out and the breeze makes it all bearable.

I count my blessings:
My gardens
My cats, who clamor for my attention
My fountain, which works as a physical and mental soother
My friend - my patient, with whom I laugh...hard....almost every day.

Turn, Turn, Turn!

Let me tell you how things have worked for me since (dun-dun-duuuuuuuuh) The Big Attack!

First, I waited a week as this wasn't my first round with vertigo. baha!  When I realized I wasn't only NOT getting better, but now I was being visited by illuminated dandelion heads, and head pain the likes of which had me considering death as being an inviting fellow, I set an appointment with my GP.  My memory here is a little spotty, but when the nurse saw me walking, a term I use rather loosely, she took total leave of her mind and asked, 'Are you okay?' Worst migraine of my life, visual disturbances people pay for at concerts, and a great imitation of the town drunk as I leaned against walls to stop them from melting into the patterned carpets AND I'm seeing the doctor -  and this nurse wants to know if I'm okay.

"What did you say?" 

"Room 3." 

That's what I thought!  'Am I okay'?!

As is common in vestibular situations,  I have now embarked on the journey to meeting EVERY. MEDICAL. PROFESSIONAL. this side of the Mississippi. 

See the ENT, who refers me to the Audiologist, who refers me to a Neurologist, who refers me to  Diagnostic Imaging for an MRI, the findings of which lead to the Migraine Associated Vertigo diagnosis.   Among other things, my triggers (common in MAVers) are  patterns, fluorescent lights.

So get a load of this!  The hallway to my neuro's office. 

If I'm not exceptionally dizzy when I go in, by the time I leave, I'm popping Valiums like Tic-Tacs, and stuffing the suggestion box with necessarily unsigned notes.

***

Four years later, and in the space of 2 weeks, I've seen the GP, the Neuro, the ENT, and the Audiologist.  Weather fronts are moving through - and they're stronger than the new medication.  I'd call the doc.....but am wondering which one I'm supposed to call.