Life As I Know It, aka, When Inner Ears Go Bad, aka, How to Get Away With Profanity At the Dinner Table....

Three weeks ago, my life as I knew it came to a sudden, screeching halt.  No, actually it came to a swirling, creeping halt.  It took me two weeks to accept what is now my current routine: no Zumba, no exercise at all (except slow walking), no dieting, no personality, no patience, no life.  It came in such a surprisingly quiet way, one that many people still question as being legitimate.  Let me start on Tuesday, March 3rd:

We had just gone to Jump On It for (my) first time in Lindon, one of those indoor trampoline parks that inevitably seem crazy germy, and just generally crazy.  I was pacing around the place taking pictures & videos and generally just trying to not look too dorky while still getting in steps for my FitBit...  :)  (As a side note, I don't jump on trampolines anymore.  Urinary incontinence from too many babies took care of that one for me.)  I had noticed some general dizziness a couple times that day, but so minor I paid it no attention.  I am used to that feeling from so many anemic periods in my life.  It took a turn for the worse as I walked around that evening and I realized how incredibly nauseated I also was.  I also realized that it wasn't really dizziness that I was feeling, but good ole' vertigo.  It became worse as we drove, and I finally had to pull over and let Derek drive the rest of the way home.  I get violently carsick if left too long in the passenger seat, so this was a major concession on my part.  It only got worse that evening, and nothing I could do would cause it to stop, or even abate.  Laying down for a long period of time did nothing to alleviate the vertigo and nausea, and eating didn't help.  I considered maybe that I had been overdoing things with the dieting and exercise (I walked nearly 12 miles that day before--an all time high when not hiking!).  But as things unfolded over the next 24 hours, no amount of food or rest helped.  I was on a sea cruise without a boat, nauseated without a bun in the oven, and sweating profusely off and on no matter the ambient temperature.  Dade didn't make it to preschool that day because I couldn't drive.  I finally saw my doctor that night in desperation.  I wondered if I had Meniere's disease.  She agreed that it seemed suspiciously like some sort of inner ear problem.  I had no fever, no pain, no other symptoms than those associated with some sort of vestibular problem (vertigo, nausea, sweats, wicked nystagmus, spots in front of eyes, concentration probs, etc).  She also gave me a lovely antihistamine that totally snowed me.  Needless to say, I stopped taking that faster than yesterday.

You know how it is with specialists: they are impossible to get into, and when you do get in the office, you usually end up seeing a nurse.  Eight days after the initial on-set of symptoms, I finally saw the otolaryngologist's PA.  He was nice and all, but after a hearing and pressure test (both of which I passed with flying colors), told me that I probably had viral labrynthitis and there was nothing he could do for me.  He said to give it several weeks and hopefully I would get better.  I walked away crying.  That was the best he could give me?  Upon doing my own research, I realized that the most likely explanation was vestibular neuritis, a related and oft confused issue where the nerve connecting the inner ear workings to the brain gets inflamed, but no hearing loss is present.

The worst part about all of this actually isn't the vertigo or nausea.  Sure I've gained back 3 of the pounds I've been working so hard to lose.  Ya I can't drive most of the time, even the one mile to my son's preschool.  Working on the computer, watching TV, reading, being anywhere with too much stimuli, and walking fast aren't great, but I'm working around them.  Even the persistent hot flashes are bearable (and I don't mean those hot flashes because baby, I have them too, and they are waaaay different) .  What I cannot stand is the personality changes.  I tried to describe this to some friends on Friday: it feels like someone stripped away all that is civilized and decent about me and removed (what little) filter I had on my mouth.  It's funny sometimes: I find myself swearing about the littlest things, and I shake with emotion talking about a silly story I read (not because I'm cold).  It's not funny when I am lashing out at my kids and husband and when I say things in public gatherings that may not be quite as tactful as they should be.  (Hey, even I have my limits, believe it or not! :)   I've always been an introvert, meaning I have to recharge alone, or sometimes alongside Derek (as in reading next to each other with the rare interruption--yes we are old farts).  But now I have to ration my time even just around my own family so carefully.  On a day like Sunday where I am at church for 3+ hours, plus any incidental meetings or family gatherings, I not only use up all my social capital, I go into debt.  And everyone around me gets to pay for it.  It's pretty hard to feel like a good mom at this point, or even a good human being.  Add onto all this the anxiety/depression disorder that (until now) was under really good control, well, it's not really a recipe for success.

Why am I unloading upon you?  Well, first of all, because it helps me to organize my messy mind and put some of these things in a little better perspective.  More importantly, I hope that this will benefit someone else who is suffering from this problem.  Most people don't understand how someone who looks and (mostly) acts perfectly fine can be in such distress.  I can only hope that this educates those of you who may not know how to treat someone else dealing with such a bizarre condition.  For myself, I have an appointment with a different ENT/otolaryngologist tomorrow--crossing my fingers that he can give me more information and maybe even some relief.  Ciao!

UPDATE: ENT agrees that it's most like vestibular neuritis, but I get to ride the vomit comet (or equilivalent thereof) next week to make sure it's not something else, like a broken brain (oh, wait I already know I have one of those)....