The Elephant In The Room
Okay, it’s time to discuss the huge elephant in the room. Well, in my case, it is a dragon named Galar. January 6, 2011, I posted A Good Day. This was a blog post giving you (anyone who does not have Meniere’s) a way to understand what I go through on a good day in this battle I fight. I once again, urge you to read this post and have a better understanding of how things are for me on those good days.
Now, to discuss the not-so-good and the bad days I have.
Since adding the new trigger of weather in 2009, I have many not-so-good days. It is just a factor living in East Tennessee. I know, it could be worse, I could live in the UK. Having many friends over there, I know they have lots of rain.
If I wake up with what I call “waterbed effect”, it is a not-so-good day. What this means is I wake up feeling like I am on a waterbed. Not that the bed is wet (that is a post for another blog), but the slight motion of being on a waterbed when I don’t have one. With this effect, I stagger out of bed much more off balanced than I usually am. I will only drive feeling this way when I absolutely have to and if I do have to go anywhere, I have to be able to remain in the car or seated as much as possible. During this time, I am much more susceptible to having drop attacks and this is not a desirable possibility.
In the last couple years since I have really been more diligent in tracking these symptoms via an app on my iPod called My Pain Diary: Chronic Pain Management, I have found that I have these not-so-good days more in the days leading up to a full bout.
With the rain, I also have physical pain in my ears. The pain isn’t intense, but more of a dull, burning ache. What makes it really bad is that it is in both ears simultaneously and continuously. This, after a few hours, causes a headache to set in. When it gets to where I am ready to scream and cut my ears off, I take some Tylenol and grab the heating pad. I bought me a microwavable heating pad that is aromatherapy as well and meant to fit around the neck. This allows me to lay down with it and apply to both ears at the same time.
From not-so-good we travel deeper to the bad days. If I wake up with what I call “lake effect”, I know I will be vertigo by the end of the day. Lake effect is when I wake up feeling like I am on a rubber floatation device out in the middle of the lake. Some people, when I say I will be vertigo by the end of the day usually snap back that I need to be more positive. This is NOT me being negative. It is me having lived with this dragon since November 2004.
Unless I have an obligation that I have to tend to, I usually get my cane, take my medication and go back to bed. I do not drive or go out of the apartment at all when I am like this, unless someone is escorting me to the doctor (rare). When I am in a bout, I am vertigo for two days. During this time, I sleep. My doctor has me on a psychotropic drug to help with the vertigo and I take it with a shot-glass of Pedialyte.
The Pedialyte helps with the nausea. I have learned to suppress the vomiting as I am the only one who would clean it up and I am in no condition to clean up vomit when I am vertigo. Another trick I have picked up during this time is to get through my apartment without opening my eyes. Most will tell you to open your eyes when you are vertigo. For me, if I open my eyes, I will vomit. I keep them closed and move about at an extremely slow pace. During this time all I consume is the medication and Pedialyte. I go from my bed, to the kitchen to the bathroom and back to bed all without opening my eyes. This is my life for two days.
If you have ever had vertigo, imagine having it for two days while taking a psychotropic drug to help you with it. (Side note – I don’t know how this drug is supposed to help the vertigo, all I do know is it knocks me out so I can endure the two days)
Following these two grueling days I am very vulnerable for several more days. First, it takes at least 12 hours of laying on the couch to get rid of the heavy fog which is a side effect of the drug and a residual effect of the vertigo. Also, I am even more susceptible physically to drop attacks as I am physically worn out. With the emotional toll it takes on me I am extremely vulnerable as well in that area. This doesn’t mean you need to “walk on eggshells” around me, it just means you need to know that I am on an emotional roller coaster for several days.
April of last year, I had three bouts back-to-back in one week. This left me completely beaten up. As a result of this, I contemplated ending the reign of Galar by destroying his prey, me. I spent a week in the psych-ward at the hospital as a result of this. It took this for my psychologist to finally believe me when I told him I was not depressed. I was never diagnosed with depression. I was diagnosed with Meniere’s w/psychosis. There are depressed thoughts and idealizations, but not depression.
As an isolationist, I try to keep my contact with people to a minimum during the time immediately following a bout. I know I am prone to taking things the wrong way and don’t want to make any comments that could cause ill feelings for the other person. It is during this time that little things really mean the most to me (they always mean a lot, though). An e-mail, an IM or a text that might simply say “hello” or “I’m thinking about you” go a long way in helping me get through this ugly period after a bout.
To conclude, if I disappear for a while or seem even quieter than usual, it is nothing to do with you (well, probably not you), but instead, it is me trying to get back to a normal parameter following another bout with this hideous dragon. Kind of like how you need to take time to get your family and household back in order following a tiresome visit by kinfolk you are kind of glad you don’t see very often.

