Stricken

Yesterday wasn't one of my better days. The Meniere's was firing on all pistons and threatened to knock me flat throughout most of the day. It started first thing in the morning, right after I had some breakfast. I ended up stripping down to the boxers and crashing on the sofa. For more than an hour. Fortunately it was only mild vertigo when I walked, not the severe, crippling vertigo whenever I moved my head. But it was close. And after a long break, it passed. Then I was able to go to work.

The disease still lingered in the back of my ear, though. I had to shuffle slowly from the parking lot to my office. Threatened with tripping at each step. Ambling down the halls like a gray octogenarian. Having to steady myself by touching a wall or railing. Couldn't look up. Couldn't take the stairs. Had to pace myself and measure small victories with each step. The whole time, I'm sick to my stomach, clenching my jaw each time a wave of nausea rises up.

Wasn't so bad at my desk. I figured out that jacking up the chair so that I have to look down at my keyboard and monitors is a big help. Staring straight ahead. Not turning as people come by. Bringing the phone to me, not leaning in toward it. Using all my tricks to stay calm and cool.

It worked, mostly. I didn't get the heaves or the sweating. I stayed the course. And made it home. Even though I was stricken.