Alas, come summer, I will be in sunny Florida on a Disney cruise with my family, so I will look forward to that!
Here is part four of Adventures in Dizzyland...
I came
home, took my antibiotic faithfully, and viola! A week later, no difference.
Went back, doc said the ear was nice and pink, but there was a little fluid
still in there. It would take time, he said, to drain. Ok, I would wait
patiently, but three months later, I was patient enough. This time, the fluid
was gone, but I was still off-balance and dizzy. Why? I demanded. He didn’t
know and sent me for an MRI, just to check for a tumor in my brain. Great! Just
what I wanted to hear. When that came back negative, he sent me to an ENT. Test
after test came back negative for anything and everything related to the ear.
Sent me for another MRI to check my ears. Nothing to report there. This was
starting to weigh heavily on my mind, not to mention my wallet. And of course,
I couldn’t drive there, so my mother, father, when he could, mother-in-law, and
husband became my chauffeurs. Month after month, test after test, and I was
ready to pull my hair out, along with my ears! Maybe that would solve it. Uh,
no, then I would have two problems.
Back to
the drawing board—the internet. Let’s see, I could have Meniere’s Disease, and
inner ear disorder, but is characterized as someone who falls down and vomits
all the time. Not me, I hadn’t vomited once. BPPV? Benign Paroxysmal Positional
Vertigo…hmmm…could be…oh wait, ENT already tested for that—negative. What about
Vestibular Neuronitis, inflammation of the vestibular nerve, perilymph fistula,
a leakage of inner ear fluid into the middle ear. Ok, those are plausible. Of
course, not one of these could be diagnosed without first seeing a hearing and
balance specialist, thirty minutes away. More time off of work for my poor
hubby, who by this time, is so tired of the millions of doctor’s visits and
money being poured out in rivers, he could throw his own tantrum. Of course, I
had to get to the bottom of this. I couldn’t be like this forever, could I?
I had,
of course, researched what a balance specialist does, and it didn't sound
pretty or fun. Nevertheless, I braced myself. How bad could it really be? Plus, it
would be worth it to find out what’s wrong with me. The day of the appointment,
I dressed casually, as if I was going to see a movie with a dear friend. My
appointment was for 8:30, but my husband couldn’t get time off, so my mother
drove. After parking underground, we walked inside the huge building that
housed all kinds of medical specialties. Thank Heavens the Balance center was
on the first floor (someone knew I didn’t want to be tortured) because my
height phobia had jumped through the roof with this balance problem. We waited,
me filling out a million forms, giving them everything from how long I had the
problem to my pain scale, which was 0 for a balance problem, unless you count
the time I fell back onto my then 11-year old son at church, oh and possibly
when I bumped into the wall in the middle of the night, because I couldn’t see
or walk straight.
A while
later, we finally went in. The first thing was to check my hearing—been there,
done that, twice already—but had to do a third time for their records. Hearing
fine, except for a few high-pitch noises that should have sent me through the
roof, apparently. After my hearing appendages popped back into place from the
heavy, suck-your-ears-back-into-your-head phones were gone, they took me into
another room. This is where it not only got very weird, but very nauseating.
First, I had to put on these funky, not-so-cool-driving-with-the-top-down
glasses that sucked into my face. A red dot appeared, and oh goody, I get to
follow it, back and forth, back and forth—whoa! When did the room start
spinning? Of course, on their computer, my eyes looked like huge saucers, as
they watched them go back and forth. They wanted to see if I had nystagmus—if
my eyes fluttered when the motion stopped, indicating an inner-ear problem. Very
slight, he said, but nothing to indicate a serious problem. Next, I had to walk
up and down the hall, just to check my gait, which I looked drunk while I did
it. I had to close my eyes and stand on one foot, almost fell over, and a bunch
of other tests.
The last thing was to have a caloric test, and let me tell you
right now, it is the worst, out-of-control feeling you have ever encountered.
They first put cold water in your ear, which simulates dizziness, while wearing
the funky glasses and closing your eyes and counting back from forty, or saying
whatever they wanted you to say, so they could see what your eyes were doing,
while you feel like puking your guts out. Then, they do the other side! After
that, I lay on the table, on my side, not moving a muscle! I just wanted the
world to stop spinning. How embarrassing, even though the specialist said he
sees it all the time. Yeah, I bet!
After
sitting there waiting for those results, I just wanted to go home and crash.
Soon, the specialist comes back in and says the tests are inconclusive. WHAT?!
Meaning, you need to repeat them at a later date. I wanted to reach out and
strangle the life out of him, not really, but I had to endure this torture
again?! Not cool! On the ride home, I cried. I was so tired, so sick, so sick
and tired of feeling this way; I wanted to climb out of my body and say, “See
ya!” At home, I tried to remain calm, but when my husband came home, he got the
brunt of it, poor guy.
“Why me?
What did I do to deserve this?”
“Nothing,
but then nobody does anything to deserve what challenges they’ve been given,
they just have to work through them, with the Lord’s help,” my wise husband
said.
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