Tilt-A-Whirl
A week ago, I tried to get out of bed. As I lifted my head off the pillow, immediately it felt like I was on the worst Tilt-A-Whirl ride ever. My first thought “What is happening?”, which quickly turned to “Why is this happening?” Then my thoughts took an immediate nosedive and went straight to assuming the worst. (I’m not writing it; our thoughts become our body’s actions.) Daily, hourly, sometimes every minute I’m trying to brush that dark cloud of a thought out of my forecast. And boy, is it a battle!
For the first couple of days, in silence and solitude, I battled this new Tilt-A-Whirl life I somehow acquired. Sporadically, I tried to search for answers and solutions on my own when a window of relief for spinning was provided. But really, I was looking for a distraction, because I wasn’t ready to accept my darkest thoughts. While brainstorming possibilities I remembered a friend that has struggled with these symptoms before. I pray, pray, pray. Please, God, let this be vertigo. I’ll take that over my alternative right now.
What I now know to be called the “Epley Maneuver”, was suggested. I laughed, “Ya, right. I can’t do that. I would certainly pass out.” So I didn’t. Dumb. Dumb. Dumb. A few more days and I had reached my breaking point. How do people function with this...for weeks, months, years?! In desperation, I get my husband to spot me and I try my uneducated attempt at what little I know of the “Epley Maneuver.”
Yep! That was as just horrible as I imagined it. (Of course! Think the worst, you’ll get the worst.) The somersaulting room finally subsided enough to stand up so I can escape outside to solid ground. Oh, wait. I forgot to explain my setting. We are camping in our little RV. Which sounds fine until you learn it has no stabilizers! And with every step or move my King Kong husband makes, he rocks the entire RV. Seriously?! It’s like having motion sickness and then going on a boat...to live and sleep. Ah! Misery. But don’t forget to add the nausea and the most dense brain fog ever. And then the kicker. “If this maneuver didn’t work for me, then this must not be vertigo”. Deeper down my thoughts and emotions sink.
Defeated, I get outside to pout, I mean, sit in my chair. A kind camper walking by, observes my misery, stops and asks how I am doing. (Isn’t that a good example of how we change the world around us? Eyes that truly see others where they are, feet that stop our personal agenda and move to others, and lips that provide encouraging words of truth...spoken simply to the people we pass by in this brief life.) And by now, you should know where this is going. Yep. Divine intervention. The kind lady that stopped has had this, this...“vertigo” before. Every symptom matches to a “T”. She pulls out her phone and searches for the maneuver that helped her. Sweet! Now I am more confident this truly is vertigo and this technique doesn’t look as torturous as the last one, fifteen minutes ago. Fifteen minutes ago! From despair to hopefulness.
I find the video on my laptop. She leaves. I watch the video repeatedly so I can follow the protocol accurately. My neighbors probably think I’m crazy as I complete the 1/2 somersault maneuver outside. I’m not a fan of going in the weeble, wobble RV lately.
Within 5 minutes my head started to clear and I felt a noticeable amount of relief. So I repeat every 15 minutes. Feeling hopeful, I go to bed. But the spinning starts again. The back of my head a seeming trigger; my thoughts go dark, again. Ugh.
And how do I research, prepare healthy food, and think, let alone accomplish anything with all this spinning and fog?
Pure frustration for this recovering “doer”. By day 6, I am SO over this. As I desperately try to push through and problem solve this carnival ride prison I didn’t by a ticket to, I find an acupuncturist who had a last minute cancellation (another God provision). And again, by the grace of God, I found the clinic and arrived safely. Finally, my body finds relaxation, deep relaxation.
The tightness, the brain fog, and the sinus congestion...gone. Yes! The spinning...my ball and chain? No. It’s still clamped to my ankle. Grrrr.
The entire car ride home my mind functions while it can...”What am I doing wrong? What do I need to do differently?” A piece of each technique makes no sense to me, so I eliminate those parts and try a combination of the two. The best of both worlds. And maybe it was my right ear at first, but but now it seems to be my left.
Within five minutes...clarity. Stillness. Even ground.
I head in for the night, my test.
As I lay my head down on the pillow, my world is still. Progress. Huge progress. Hallelujah!
Next test. Getting out of bed. Not bad. Not perfect, but greatly improved. I did my combined maneuvers again and found even more relief. And after a week of no biking, no paddle boarding, and minimal walking, today I am able to walk faster and ride my bicycle. Relief!
I have to repeat the maneuver a few times each day, but the dizziness keep lessening. So worth it.
And I reflect. How did I spend my week “tilting”? Worried. Fearful. Disappointed. Sad. Empty. Angry. Frustrated. Despair. Looking at my problems instead of my Maker.
“Why are you so downcast, O my soul?
Why so disturbed within me?
Put your hope in God,
For I will yet praise Him,
My Savior and my God.” Psalm 43:5
When I repeatedly feel empty, I deny God’s provision. When I repeatedly feel angry, I deny His goodness. When I am in despair, I deny God’s faithfulness. Forgive me.
The vertigo may be gone, but this dark cloud keeps blowing in from the West. So I remind myself to choose to fill my eyes and ears with good things, things that reflect His truth and glory, instead of the dark places my mind wanders. I try to choose joy in all circumstances, gratitude for what I do have and can do, and hope...hope because He is relentlessly pursuing me every day with his love and grace...regardless if I feel like it, see it, hear it, or taste it...or not.