This Can’t Be Happening Today.
On Christmas Eve I awoke slowly and, while still lying in the center of my bed, opened my eyes.
I nearly screamed. With complete shock, I realized I was falling rapidly – I’m falling out of bed! The entire room was spinning so fast, I thought I might vomit. I quickly shut my eyes, and the sensation stopped.
Vertigo.
It had been years since I’d last felt it – years since I knew what to do to help myself. I couldn’t move.
The short definition of vertigo is that, thanks to an inner ear issue, a sufferer feels like the whole world is spinning. It makes it nearly impossible to stand, walk, bend or even look down. And it lasts for an absolutely indefinite time.
It’s Christmas Eve, I thought. This can’t be happening today.
And it was, by far, the worst vertigo I had ever experienced.
I heard a noise outside my door, so I called for help. Dylan appeared.
Thank you, God, for Dylan.
With his help, I sat up. He walked me to the bathroom – and back.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“You’re just old,” he said.
Eventually I remembered that I might need a doctor to do the Epley maneuver – a tried-and-true approach to removing crystals from the inner ear canal. It worked beautifully, but I couldn’t do it alone.
Bill was at work, but Dylan could drive me to the doctor. So I called the Ear, Nose and Throat specialist who saved me from this exact condition many years ago.
“We can’t see you today,” said the receptionist who obviously just didn’t want to talk to me. “We close at noon. You can just go to the hospital.”
As if the hospital – any hospital – would be the place to go for the Epley maneuver.
I wanted to shout at her: It’s Christmas Eve! I can’t get out of bed! And you’re telling me you won’t even TRY to help? But I said, “Okay,” and hung up.
I sat in my bed for a long, long time. Bill came home and tried to do the Epley maneuver based on the internet description, which definitely did something – meaning I definitely had vertigo – but it didn’t fix the problem.
I did the Foster somersault next – many, many times – also from the internet. I could do it alone, and YouTube claimed it was the best. But by the time the Christmas Eve candlelight service rolled around, I was barely able to brush my teeth, let alone get up and go out.
I missed church. I was a damper on the Christmas Eve festivities with the family. I couldn’t make the salad – my only contribution – for dinner.
I did Foster somersaults many times in the middle of the night, to no avail. And I prayed for a Christmas miracle. But on Christmas morning, it was only a tad bit better. I could walk around, as long as I didn’t move my head, so I just focused hard on each boy as he opened his presents.
And then I made sure I had a wall near my left shoulder whenever I walked, because I was likely to fall over if I didn’t.
It’s two days past Christmas now, and I am better. I am not well, but I can turn my head slowly and I fed the dog today without help. I don’t know when the residual effects will go away.
But I am sitting up and able to type. So that’s a step in the right direction – and I’ll take it.