I’m Coming Back. Slowly.
I would like to say I handled my vertigo situation with ease and grace, but, unfortunately, I can’t. It was hard and frustrating and broke my spirit in a way.
I can handle my usual struggles, and I think I could have handled vertigo in a vacuum. But vertigo plus my usual struggles was just too much.
On top of that, I had been feeling relatively well in the month leading up to the vertigo, thanks to a new treatment plan I started in April. But then the vertigo hit and I felt crummy from that. Then my digestive tract started to back track on the progress I had made, hitting me on both a physical and emotional level. It was a downward spiral.
My head was dizzy, my stomach was in constant pain, my food was not digesting, my energy was low, and I got really fed up.
I think the hardest part was the feeling of going backwards after having a month or two of forward progress. This is how it’s been. I work so hard to move forward, and then get knocked off track by something from left field. This has happened over and over and over. One step forward, two steps back has been the story of my life the last six years. Usually, I can take the long view and just roll with it, but not this time.
The interesting thing about this journey is every time I think I am at my lowest point, two things happen. First, I am reminded of something our Pastor often says. He takes pains to help us understand God always shows up, especially when we are in our darkest corners. In those moments, He is there guiding us, protecting us and being with us. When I am in the dark, I think of God’s abiding presence, and somehow I am comforted. I know whatever is happing is part of a master plan and it’s not my job to know the plan. It’s simply my job to live it every day. Without question, regret or remorse.
Something else usually happens at my low points. Just when I think I can’t stand the current suffering for another second, just when I want to pull out my hair, just when I want to throw a shoe through a window, or better yet, throw in the towel, something changes for the better. It’s often just the smallest improvement that might not even be noticeable to anybody else, but is enough to restore my hope and optimism. This has happened more times than I can recount.
So where am I now? I’ve been four days without vertigo. I have no idea if it’s gone forever, but it’s gone for today. I’ve had about two days of ever-so-slight improvement of my digestive issues. I don’t feel as well as I did pre-vertigo, but I believe I’m headed in that direction. I just need to keep my head down, keep doing what I’m doing and believe in myself, my doctors and my treatment plan.
The above photo is from a boat trip last week. I was still having some minor vertigo issues and was not sure if boating was a smart idea. But I decided to go for it. There was a period of not feeling well, but I rallied and had a wonderful time. I laughed. It was a moral victory over vertigo, and gave me confidence that I will work my way out of this temporary detour.
I’ve faced many detours on this road to healing and always find my way back. This time will be no different.