It is still pretty bad when I roll over in bed. It is also kind of bad when I look at the computer screen, or at anything right in front of my face. (taking care a few warts on Josh's feet right now. Room sways like anything when I focus on them) I can't turn around quickly and have to very deliberately slowly look to both sides when driving. But I do feel less awful than I did last week.
And that is thanks to my old pal, adrenaline. You see, someone (cough cough husband) fell flat on his face in the hallway, knocked himself unconscious, split open his eyebrow, and the bridge of his nose, was slurring and then freaking me out by talking in tongues. Very confused when not babbling and asking, What happened? and Where am I? on a loop over and over. Once the ambulance pulled away about 45 minutes after the fall, I turned to Josh and said I have never felt more awake in my life. I knew that was thanks to my friend adrenaline, but I was okay with it since I would not, at almost 1 in the morning have to spend the next few hours staring at my phone and waiting for it to ring with ER doctors calling to find out what happened.
They totally thought this might be a case of elder abuse. They catalogued every single bruise, scratch and scar on his body. I saw it in the discharge papers. I'm thinking that maybe thats why they weren't as nice to me as I think one should be. They could be covid burnt out too. I know I would be a ball of raw irritated nerves if I was working in health care the last year.
Anyways, I spoke to my shrink and he said that when the body experiences trauma (watching the hubs speaking in ancient dialects while lying flat on the floor, bleeding from two places on his head, thinking he had a stroke too) not only does the adrenaline flow but the immune system also kicks it into high gear. So, that's why once the initial shock of the fall wore off I was still feeling not as craptastic from the vertigo, just mildly craptastic, and never back slid back into the entirely shittier way that I had been feeling until the moment I heard his head slam against the hardwood floor. I'd like to take a moment to thank my immune system for the lovely boost in activity in squashing this internal ear inflaming virus, and may I suggest we have another go at it? I was trying to think of another way to simulate the experience of terror, one that did not involve anyone gettingurt, (obviously) and have concluded that only way to get close to that state would be to watch the most frightening scary movie ever, in the dark. No one (and by no one I mean Josh and the hubs-because pandemic! We are alone here) wants to be my companion for this even. I'll have to do it alone in my bed at night. Maybe tonight if I can't sleep I'll find something to watch.
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