vertigo

Catching up.

~ thedailydish ~ 22 Comments

Many, MANY thanks for all the well wishes.  I am finally feeling normal again, thank GOD.  This episode was particularly bad.  Normally the dizziness lasts about a week, this time it was more like 10-11 days.  Being me (read DAMN STUBBORN) I basically try to do everything I normally would.  Which – being home most of the time – is usually o-kay.  I can rest between laundry, kids, pets, chores, etc.  When the spins get overwhelming, I lay down.  But Thanksgiving on spin cycle…?  What a trip.  I spent the day in the kitchen, of course.  WELL – It was that or… what?  Try finding a low sodium holiday meal anywhere on a NORMAL day, let alone one when everything is closed.  SO I PERSEVERED.  Being (as I mentioned) stubborn as hell – as well as halfway insane, it didn’t much matter how sh*tty I felt.  I was going to conquer Thanksgiving or die trying.  The results were divine.  I tried several new recipes this year, including a low sodium cornbread stuffing, baked squash & apples, and whipped sweet potatoes.  Which, if I get my act together, I’ll post on my other DAILY DISH.  Stop laughing.

SO. Before the pity fest, I’d been discussing our latest home improvement project.  Re-tiling the upstairs bath.   Here’s the before shot.

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Living with Meniere’s

~ thedailydish ~ 32 Comments

I get a lot of hits on this blog. Some of you visiting are my friends and family, but others of you are strangers desperate for answers.  Whether you’ve found me through a google search, or have clicked through from The Daily Dish, it is for you that I write this post.  You have been drawn here b/c you, like me, suffer from Meniere’s Disease.

I don’t talk about Meniere’s very often, mostly b/c it’s so damn depressing, but today I am breaking the silence.  Yesterday the dizziness came out of nowhere.  One minute I was fine, the next – nearly on the floor.  Why?  Good question.  It could be a myriad of things, from food to motion to emotion.  But often it’s simply a change in the weather.  Barometric pressure can do funny things to a girl.  And as fun as it might sound to be a human barometer, it’s really not.  Right now I am practically strapped to my chair.  I walk the hallway, steadying myself with the walls.  Living w/ Meniere’s Disease is a literal roller coaster, and most often I try to ignore it away.  But today I can’t.  On days like this, the best I can do is stay calm.

What is it like, one of these episodes? Well. For me, they vary. Take today. I feel dizzy. Unbelievably so. There’s an intense pressure in my head, which gets worse if I move a certain way, or stiffen up, or cough or sneeze or chew – or pretty much do anything. I feel like a top that’s been wound too tight, about to spiral off into the universe.  I am trapped inside my own body.  Like a prisoner, I have no control.  So here I sit. Feeling sorry for myself. I know these episodes pass. It’s not forever.  But it’s hard to reason w/ yourself when you’re feeling so bad. Today it’s the dizziness. Other times, it’s my hearing. First comes the pressure.  I try to coax my ear from its hissy fit.  With increasing desperation, I try to keep it open.  I pop it, over and over.. but it’s no use.  Soon my ear closes off to the world.  The tinnitus grows, my hearing recedes.  Once again, I am half-deaf.  I am alone again, inside.

The doctors try, but they can’t do anything for me. Really. It’s amazing how medicine has made such strides, but so much remains unknown.  I get very philosophical when I’m like this. Forgive me. But I can’t stop thinking about it all.

DISHWASHER WANTED! Apply within.

~ thedailydish ~ 8 Comments

Man, I am feeling LAZY. And for such a Go-To kind of gal, it’s weird. Worse yet, I am enjoying it. Yes, I am reveling in my own laziness. I am beginning to wonder whether I will ever scrape myself off my own shoe and GET THINGS DONE. Is it healthy to enjoy loitering so much?? I’m perched in front of the computer like my ass has taken root. What’s up? Normally I’d have blazed a trail to Oregon and back, but MAN all I want to do is just sit here and slack..

Maybe it’s the vertigo. I can only spend so much time inside the rock tumbler before it gets to me. This morning the dizziness was worse. Of course, Yesterday didn’t help much. NO Yesterday our dishwasher decided to bite the big one. Not sure how long these things are supposed to last, but our Whirlpool is just shy of 8. Doesn’t that seem young for a dishwasher? My folks had a dishwasher in their house in New Hope that was ANCIENT. Or maybe it just looked really bad.

I got a *feeling* about the dishwasher several days ago. For some unknown reason I started wondering about it. I don’t know why. It hasn’t been acting up, making odd noises or anything. For some reason, it just popped into my head. It may sound strange, but I get these *feelings* about things every once in a while. Like when I won that boatload of money at the Borgata. If I have some secret power, some form of telepathy or ESP, then it’s news to me. But once.. I was even able to move salt & pepper shakers across the table using just my MIND. HAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHHA!! No, I am JUST JOKING about that last thing!! But wouldn’t that be cool??

Anyway, I got this dishwasher *feeling* several days ago, and then WHADDAYAKNOW the thing’s dead. I came downstairs yesterday and was greeted by a mysterious burning smell. I go into the kitchen, there’s dirty water all over the floor. In the basement there’s water everywhere, having leaked through the ceiling down onto the dryer, into the cedar closet, all over our Christmas decorations, baby stuff, all that crap we’d just stored for a rainy day – what the hell was I thinking?? My husband came home to assess the damage and we both just left everything where it was.

Today the kitchen’s a wreck. Dishwasher baskets on the island filled with half-washed dishes, a sink full of dirty pots, last night’s dinner dishes blocking the microwave. Filthy crap everywhere. And now the power’s off. So I can’t cook. I also can’t use the sink b/c the dishwasher’s been pulled out and disconnected. It’s out on the back porch now, waiting for the garbage men to haul it away tomorrow. So long Whirlpool, thanks for the years of service. Last night in my fatigue I rinsed out the dog’s dish, and watched in horror as water poured onto the floor from the unconnected hose beneath the counter. DUH. Yes, I felt very stupid. But I was too tired to care.

After dinner, we’d driven an hour to the Sears Outlet to look at dishwashers. They have a TON of appliances there, as well as a fabbbbbulous air hockey table at a LOW LOW price of $177. Which we ALL WANT. And they had heaps of dishwashers, but none of them *just right* and none at the price we wanted to pay. Sure, I could take that gorgeous $1500 stainless steel number for half the price, but I still don’t want a HUGE DENT on the front panel. I’m already screaming inside at the top of my lungs. Needless to say, we went home w/out a new washer. Fortunately, however, the Liquor Outlet’s right there next to the Scratch & Dent. So although we returned home appliance-less, we didn’t go home empty handed. And I will take what I can get.

I like the Scratch & Dent place – we got our beautiful stove and fridge there and also our new stacked washer/dryer. All of those look perfect and (so far) work great. But I am branching out. I checked prices online at Lowe’s. I like Lowe’s. It is clean and bright and on the weekends they have lots of cash registers open – with real live employees operating them. This would differ drastically from the Home Depot we frequent. Or should I say, USED TO frequent. This weekend we had our last straw with the Home Depot. We spent almost $300 there on Sunday afternoon, purchasing garden supplies, and had to wait until Sunday evening to check out. While 3 employees meandered around the nursery, laughing and joking around with each other, and one very overworked employee rang up at the register. ALONE. We were PISSSSSSED, as was everyone else in line. If we hadn’t already waited a decade, we would have left. LISTEN UP HOME DEPOT, You are gonna lose the Race of the Home Improvement Box Stores if you don’t shape up. I AM SERIOUS.

This past weekend we did quite a bit of work on the back garden. It isn’t going to win us any prizes, but it looks better than it did. In the evening I brought in an array of bowls and spoons my daughters had been using to dig a trench across the yard. These were of course good kitchen bowls & spoons, and not wanting to throw them in the trash, I stuck them into the dishwasher for a rinse. My bad.

Lord of the Flies

~ thedailydish ~ 6 Comments

When we returned home from the Midwest, the first thing I did was drag my sorry self upstairs to crash out in bed. After nearly 15 hours in the car, it was all I could do. But the first thing my husband did, being the amazing soul he is, was go through the entire house to make sure everything was just as we’d left it. And everything was fine. Save for the flies.

When we left John says he noticed one lone fly bzzzzing round an upstairs room. No big deal. He figured it’d be dead by the time the weekend was over.

HAHAHAHHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAH!!!!

Remember Cutie? My daughter’s runaway hamster?? Yes, I know I haven’t written about him in weeks. But that’s b/c we thought he was still on vacation. Well… he is, except it’s that reeeeeeeaaaalllly long vacation that never ends. Ugh. we can now state w/ fair certainty that Cutie has become banquet to 50,000 flies. So we’ve spent the better part of two days shooing, swatting and otherwise casting out these winged creatures from our happy home. And in tackling this new and vexing challenge, I have noticed something truly profound.

When a fly gets trapped inside, they follow a particular pattern. First, They zoom from room to room looking for an exit. Second, they find a window. They fly back and forth past the window, assessing the possibility of escape. In a last-ditch effort, they begin to fly into the window, over and over, as though their feeble crashes will at last force the glass and they will be free. Eventually, the exhausted fly succumbs to the inevitable, either crawling up into a ball and breathing its last, OR conversely, overcoming its initial aversion and fear and FINALLY allowing me to gently scoop it up and release it out into the world.

Having watched this scenario play out OH SO MANY times over the past couple days, I have been struck by the similarity between humans and flies. These flies leave you wondering. WHAT THE HELL??!! ARE YOU REALLY SO DAMN STUPID?? I AM HERE – ARE YOU BLIND?! MY HAND! It is GUIDING YOU OUT – SEE THERE!! THE OPEN WINDOW!!!! IT’S RIGHT THEEERRRRRREEE!! I AM TRYING TO SAVE YOU, YOU MORON!!!

When a human becomes trapped – and here I am speaking rather metaphorically – so by this I could mean a myriad of things. But when a human becomes similarly “trapped” w/ no hope of escape, their response is very much like the fly. We are stubborn. We are STUPID. We do not want Help. We don’t NEED HELP. Instead we rush round looking for a means of escape. OH! And there it is. But it’s not, not really. No, it’s an impenetrable hurdle. So we bang out heads against the proverbial glass, frustrating ourselves and every conceivable attempt at freedom. And when that *Great Hand from the Sky* reaches down to help, what do we do?? We fail to see it. Or if we do, we RUN THE HELL AWAY.

Sometimes life presents you w/ a metaphor that you just can’t help but notice. I do not profess to be any more in tune w/ the great Cosmos than the next guy, but I can tell you this whole FLY THING has gotten my attention. The past several days have been pretty hard for me. I do not like vertigo. Yes, it is BAD. Having to steady myself constantly against the rotational force of the planet, whilst everyone else goes about their daily business blissfully unencumbered SUCKS. Feeling shitty always puts me in a slightly philosophical frame of mind. SO. Feeling this way, I would just like to say HEY. HEY BIG GUY. If you are up there, pitying me or watching me with amusement, FEEL FREE TO HELP. I am here, just smacking my head against the glass, so You just FEEL FREE to stick that big ol’ mitt out for me already. As long as you’re not going to smash me dead, I_am_YOURS.

I’m BACK!

~ thedailydish ~ 6 Comments

I would ASK if you all missed me, but those butterscotch-sweet comments speak for themselves. You guys are the BEST! Thank you for making me feel like the belle of the ball. Unfortunately, in real life I am feeling a lot more like the Ty-D-Bol Man caught in a perpetual flush. This weekend was F-U-N with a capital F, but the 30 hour car ride has left me reeling. With my head on spin cycle, I am ever-so-slowly rejoining reality. It’s almost 8 PM. I am still in my PJs, I have not brushed my hair, but I did this morning brush my teeth. Things are looking up.

We left Thursday morning for the reunion, and drove straight through to Davenport, Iowa. The family had reserved a block of rooms at a local hotel, and upon arrival John & I discovered we’d been given the “Honeymoon Suite.” Sweeeeet. Well, it would have been, were we not also sharing it with our two children. Oh well. We joked about the mirrored ceiling the rest of the weekend, and instead of a seductive soak in our massive jacuzzi, the ladies and I took a pre-party bath together. As my younger daughter said, a little weird, but still fun.

We spent much of the weekend partying b/c THAT is what my family does best. Some families drink to escape, but us, we drink to further enhance our feelings of good will. We are one fun loving bunch. We played games, swam in the indoor pool and spent a boatload in the arcade. We ate. We are SCHOLFIELDS after all. We ordered pizza from 2 different Midwestern chains, with specialty pies called The Inferno, The BLT, and The Taco Joe. I had never seen a pizza covered in Doritos before, but now I have. Not quite as strange as seeing that pizza with a whole fried egg on top like I did in France, but. strange nonetheless.

The weather was cold and rainy for much of our stay, making Philly seem positively balmy by comparison. On Friday, a hotel employee came round to announce a *Tornado Warning* until 5 PM, saying we might have to evacuate to the basement. WOW. Getting my drunk on in a darkened basement might not have been my first choice, but I’m always game for something new. The wind shook the building, and the rain came down in buckets – actually leaking through the roof in places – but that was it. No evacuation. Perhaps next time.

Saturday was the formal luncheon at Deere Run, the John Deere golf club. It’s a lovely place and seemed a particularly fitting choice for the event, given that my grandfather worked for them most of his life. After eating, we took turns lining up for posed portraits, which although slightly tedious was still sort of fun and of course much appreciated by G-ma. It’s amazing how little everyone has changed in 10 years. My cousins, aunts & uncles all pretty much look the same. If it weren’t for the kids, we could still be back in 1998. I will keep telling myself that anyway.

Later in the evening, we met at the hotel-cum-retirement home where my grandmother lives. This rendezvous was for a very special event. The Wearing of the Scholfield Family Reunion T-Shirts. This tradition states that all family members as well as Guests (and yes, we do provide t-shirts for them as well) must don an Official Scholfield Family Reunion T-Shirt for a prescribed length of time, during which many photographs will be taken for posterity. This tradition seems to divide our family into one of two vocal groups: The Lovers of the T-Shirts and The Loathers of the T-Shirts. These white tees are emblazoned with emblems from all of our past reunions, and on the back is written your name and a catchy slogan. I will not tell you mine b/c it is a FAMILY SECRET, but this year there were some new winners. For instance, my cousin’s new husband from Down Under got, “Lawrence: Australian for Scholfield”. Yes, We ARE CLEVER. These t-shirts switch hands every so often, as a new person is elected to produce the new batch of emblems. At this reunion I requested that my Aunt send them to me next. This may or may not have something to do w/ the fact that my mail service is so PISS POOR I’ll likely never receive them. Oops. No need to confess where I stand on this most precious family tradition.

This weekend was a trip. It was a physical haul, driving straight through from Philly to Davenport, Iowa. BOTH WAYS, With only 2 DAYS of heavy drinking in between. I of course have vertigo. again. Which makes me almost as depressed as leaving my family. I have lived my whole life so far away from my relatives. And now my parents and my only sister also live 800 miles away. When we parted on Sunday, I was sobbing like a baby. But worse. I love my family. They are GREAT in every sense of the word. Fun. Full of life. Even my 95 year old grandmother. Now that I am home again, I miss them terribly. I know scores of people who long to escape from their relatives, but not me. I only wish we lived closer.

Today is my grandmother’s 95th birthday. It’s hard to believe. 95 years is a damn long time. 90 years longer than my younger daughter has lived. 60 years longer than I have been around. A whole lifetime of time. And although her body is failing, her mind is still strong. She dishes her guilt with almost surgical precision. She may have a brain tumor impinging on her thoughts at times and occasionally garbling her meaning, but she is still very much with it. So she’s confined to a wheelchair, she gets around. And even has a BOYFRIEND. My 95 year old grandma, as frail as she is, is one tough old bird. God bless her.