I hate being dizzy. I always have. The first time an aunt took me on a carnival ride that scrambled my brains, I screamed for it to stop.
When vertigo hit me in my sleep early Tuesday morning, I didn’t make a sound.
The world started churning violently, twisting vertically, like a record album spinning back and forth. I thought, “I guess this is what happens when you die.”
It lasted 10 seconds. It felt like 10 days. I went to the ER to make sure it wasn’t anything serious. Before going, I searched “severe dizziness while sleeping.” The AI-generated response mentioned BPPV: Benign paroxysmal positional vertigo.
The good news is it’s not serious. The bad news is it’s awful.
I was a lot better until I got to the hospital. Then I got worse. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t walk. All I could do was get myself in one position and stay there. Any movement of my head triggered more dizziness.
Doctors ruled out a cardiac episode and an MRI showed no stroke or tumor. They tentatively diagnosed it as BPPV.
Earlier today, an audiologist performed what’s known as the Epley maneuver. It’s an ultra-low-tech series of movements aimed at getting calcium crystals in the inner ear to fall back into their normal place.
Yes, we have little crystals deep inside our ears that control balance. When they get out of position, we get vertigo. Badly.
If you’ve had it, you know how it feels. If you haven’t: (1) consider yourself lucky; and (2) if you ever wake up in the middle of the night and the whole world is spinning, there’s a pretty good chance you’re not dying. Still, get checked out to rule out something more serious. And to confirm that it’s BPPV — which is as treatable as it is horrible.
Last year, I had a kidney stone. That was the worst pain I’d ever experienced. This has been the worst discomfort.
The good news is it’s slowly getting better. I did #PFTPM earlier today. I’ve been posting more today than yesterday. I’m sleeping a lot, which seems to help. When I change positions, I don’t get dizzy; it feels like someone has grabbed my shoulders and yanked me, and it takes a second or two to reorient myself.
Through it all, I have a newfound appreciation for what we do, how we do it, and who we do it for. For 10 really long seconds two nights ago, I thought it was over, for good. For several hours in the ER, I thought I would be permanently unable to function the way I’m accustomed to functioning — basically, full-go, non-stop, all the time.
I’m not yet full-go, non-stop, all the time. But it’s getting closer.
Thanks to all who reached out with good thoughts and positivity. Thanks to the crew for carrying the load during my diminished capacity. Thanks to all of you who continue to visit our little corner of the Internet to keep current on the NFL.