Her Last Day

After nearly a decade of fine, upstanding service, today is Mom's last day at work. She helped open the place in 1999. She was there two weeks after it was destroyed in 2005. And helped re-open it in 2006. I think she has done more than her fair share over the years.

She's going to retire. Take care of her mother. See more of the Grandkids. Maybe find something small, part time, for spending cash. I'm happy for her. She doesn't need to be on her feet for forty hours a week, dealing with drunken guests and dealing with petty managerial issues. We're all happy for her. She deserves to take a break. Her work's done.

Unfortunately, I wasn't really there today. I went into the office, sure. But after an hour, I get hit with a vertigo attack from my right ear. Here's a pretty accurate description of today:

Vertigo, often the most debilitating symptom of Meniere's disease, forces the sufferer to lie down or if they can't get to a bed in time, crawl along the floor, even up the stairs. Sometimes the attack is so powerful, that the person falls to the ground "as a bag of sand". These attacks can lead to severe nausea, vomiting, and sweating. It is very important to remember that all of these symptoms are unpredictable.

One minute I'm talking to Keith about too many high-level people getting involved in a minor issue, and the next minute I plant my forehead on my desk, start dry heaving, and sweat like a cold beer under a warm August sun. It was awful. And embarrassing. And humiliating. Eventually, Garry wheeled me to the restroom, to clean up, and Cindy left work to take me home. By 2Pm, the vertigo was gone. But I was weak as a kitten and had to sleep. Finally, around 4PM, it was all over. Aside from the ravenous hunger, I was back to normal. No lasting scars from the battle.

Mom called, to check on me. I told her I was fine. I was just sorry to have missed her last day.