Handbasket.

[mrissa]

It doesn't take that many days of me having vertigo for things to go to hell in a handbasket. Some of the stuff that's piled up is stuff that I would have dealt with promptly under steadier circumstances -- the dog has gotten her favorite corner of the library couch dirty, for example, and by now I would have scrubbed the upholstery. Other stuff -- the car's brakes making ominous noises -- can in no way be linked to me being dizzy all week. And yet there they are, and they need handling, just as they would any other time. And there's only so much markgritter and timprov can do at a time.

And I have the fidgets like nobody's business. My preferred forms of exercise are biking (we have a stationary recumbent bike, so I can do this when it's snowing outside) and yoga and Pilates and walking the dog. None of which is precisely a bright idea when one is dizzy -- sure, you can sort out one or two bits of yoga that don't involve bending some dangerous direction, but for the most part, all the kinds of exercise I like to do are not so good in terms of risk of falling on one's head. Swimming would be an exception, except that we'd have to get me somewhere to go swimming, have me negotiate a locker room without falling on my head, and hope that I didn't lose consciousness in the water, so while it's roughly horizontal, I think we'll still call that a no. I managed the bike for 20 minutes this morning before I had to go lie on the couch and wait for the room to stop spinning again. Suggestions for dizzy-people exercise are quite, quite welcome -- I'm hoping this will go away today or tomorrow, but I was hoping that Tuesday, and, as I said, fidgets.

On e-mail last night, I said that I wanted to put up a sign reading, "Do not taunt Happy Fun Mris. No, really. Do not. Seriously bad idea." Nobody has been taunting Happy Fun Mris, but I would prefer that they not start, as I am not so much in the mood to take it well. People are constantly telling me that I'm a nicer person than they are, or a more patient one. I hope they're not counting on that to be a universal truth, frankly. Because I am done being patient right about now.

Comments

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

Yes, I have a diagnosis. I just don't choose to share it with the internet at large because I don't like dealing with people second-guessing doctors on no data, which seems to happen a lot in internetland.

[warinbear.livejournal.com]

Oh, I understand that. I'm glad to hear that you have consulted a professional on the subject; I apologize if I seemed to pry.

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

One of my best friends is a doctor, so you can pretty much assume I've gotten poked to go see one, if anything like this comes up in the future.