Meniere's– "As The World Spins"

For 36 years, I have taken care of others.  At the age of nine I was cooling, cleaning and doing laundry for a family of five.  I remember Grandmaw standing me on a milk crate to teach me how to cook and wash dishes.   She even stood me up there to watch how she used her old wringer-washer.  Even though most tasks were heaped on my by my mother and step-father, it wasn’t like work when Grandmaw was by my side.  I remember the day she lowered her ironing board to teach me how to iron.  I would dream, even at the tender age of nine, of one day having my own family.  I wanted lots of children, at least enough to field my own softball team.  I didn’t just dream of babies in my arms, but also of being pregnant and giving birth.

The beginning of September 2008, I set an appointment with my neuro-otologist to have grommets inserted into both of my ears for the purpose of using the Minette Device.  The device would cost me $3500 out of pocket.  At the time this wasn’t a real major issue as I had some money in the bank and could cover it.  However, two weeks after setting the appointment, I was told that ten of the twelve employees at work (including me) would be losing their jobs as of October 31, 2008.  I was devastated and and contemplated not having the procedure.  Friends I discussed this with urged me to go forward with it and if I ran into financial difficulty due to all of it, they would be there for me.

I have always been taught that if you treat others with respect and in a dignified manner then it will be returned to you.  In other words, “You reap what you sow”.I have always done my best to treat others respectfully.  Even those who have done me ill I treat at least cordially.  After all we are all human beings and must get on together to survive on this planet.

Friday, I went for my three month check-up with my Otologist.  He came in with his nurse and nurse practitioner and asked how I was doing.  After a bit of banter I told him that I am still looking for a one-way ticket to Iraq.  a little more banter and he realized I wasn’t joking when I asked him to schedule my autopsy I have been requesting.  He preformed the exam and then I stood there and proceeded to throw a bit of a tantrum.

I know what you are thinking, but put away your visions of a two-year-old pitching a fit.  I don’t scream, yell or stamp my feet (I’d fall down if I tried).  In fact, the worst I have done in recent history was call the workers at Hardee’s a bunch of plebeians.  I went on to say, through a veil of tears, that I am angry, bitter and just plain unhappy.  The trio only watched, listened and tried to answer my questions.  My doctor felt this long over due as well as educational for his green nurse practitioner.

This past weekend I updated my computerized Medial Alert Card (ICE).  While I did this I was prompted to add my Living Will and pulled it up as well as a form to complete my Last Will and Testament.  I went back through the pages of my life as I completed these forms.  I remembered the promises of others along with the promises I made to myself.  It seems all those promises were empty.  I would like to think that those who made those promises to me made them in good conscience.  However, from here, looking back they are empty and without the prospect of ever being filled.

I had dreams for my life.  I wanted to be a wife, mother and ultimately a grandmother.  It was my deepest desire to pass on to my children and grandchildren all I learned from my grandparents.  But in one god-forsaken diagnosis all my dreams were shattered and fell to the ground around my feet.  There is no shoulder for me to cry on.  No arm for me to hold to steady my balance.  I am angry that there is a disease that has no known cause, no known cure and not very much research being done to rectify this.  this leaves me unhappy and alone.  The loneliness has bred bitterness.  If only the promises had not been empty perhaps some dreams would not have shattered.

Once upon a time when I would be posed with the question as to what makes me angry; my reply would be prompt and sure, ‘those who abuse children, animals or anyone who cannot properly defend themselves.’ Being a survivor of childhood abuse and seeing it in its many ugly faces I knew in my heart of hearts this is what angered me the most.

Through the years my steadfastness on this topic has not wavered. Pet peeves have crept in which I file under “stupid people doing stupid stuff.” Now, however, I hesitate in giving a reply. To most my answer remains the same. To me it is far from the truth.  While forms of abuse still ruffle my feathers, and probably always will, there is now something else that feeds the raging monster of anger with in.

Vulnerability. Helplessness. Weakness. No matter what word is used, it still comes from within. When your body brings about a disease it has a way of throwing your life and manner of thinking into a tailspin not easily recovered.

My body started behaving in a way that it should not. No one could tell me why. When I received a call from a “substitute” nurse wrongly telling I had diabetes, I thought my world was ending. After losing my grandmother and a close friend to the disease this news hit me like a sledge hammer on a carpet tack.

In a manner, I wish diabetes had been the answer. However, several weeks later I listened intently with some relief as my doctor explained that in fact, I did not have diabetes. I am pre diabetic. This news only gave a short term air of solace. We were back at square one. If not diabetes, then what.

Seven months! It took seven months for the parade of doctors to diagnose me with Meniere’s Disease. This disease had been mentioned to me by one doctor two months before the diagnosis. At that time my research began. My findings were anything but reassuring.

Meniere’s disease has no known cause, no known cure. These words plunged deeper into my heart and soul then lead weights into the deepest sea. As a perfectionist, I like being in control of my actions and my body. This time is no different. No one can tell me why I have Meniere’s. No one can tell me how to eliminate it. Needless to say, I am not a happy person.

What makes me angry?  Having a disease that no one can explain makes me very angry. I cannot explain why. I just know I am angry though no one is to blame. Even though a few aspects of the disease were gradual, most were not. I feel as if my normalcy had been snuffed out like a candle.

What is my response to everything?  Isolation and self medication. It is easier to withdrawal and shut myself off from the world. I trust no one and cannot trust myself to be around others. Pondering these issues and others, I often cry myself to sleep. To prevent this, I take Benadryl or drink valerian tea to put myself to sleep. Weekends in isolation are worse. I have been known to spend them with alcohol to numb my body, mind and soul to prevent thoughts of Meniere’s from seeping in.

So, what is at the heart of the matter? I cannot trust and will not try till the anger goes away. The anger will not go away till there is a cure for Meniere’s Disease and that is improbable in my lifetime. Hence, a very vicious cycle.