Tuesday 09 September 2003

Vertiginous

I didn't think I'd start whingeing about the physical state for a couple more weeks yet, but erk, what a week-plus its been. 

It all started last Monday, when The Little Professor was driving Tuxedo and I to, um, somewhere and I was in the back seat ... anyway he came up to a roundabout too fast, not concentrating, and yes there was a car coming around the roundabout.  Little Professor braked, hard ... and I lurched, neck snapping, and I felt well, things, sliding about in my neck in ways they're not supposed to.  I knew straight away I was going to be in deep shit.  When you've got hypermobile joints, movements that to others would be negligible are major.  This was going to be one of those times.

Within half an hour, the episode had begun.  Pain began to flare, increasing beyond control and any hope of medication actually working.  I started to feel nauseous, and by the evening I started to throw up, which I don't usually do (I feel like it, a lot, but don't often chuck) and generally was a mess.  More medication; no discernible improvement.  And a feeling of disorientation and dislocation (beyond what you might expect from the meds!).  I had a horror night - Tuxedo did too of course, the poor guy.

Tuesday was worse, if anything.  The major bummer was that we'd been planning a lovely picnic at Kings Park (christening the picnic ware David and Micah gave me for my birthday) and it was an absolutely divine day ... but this little chickie wasn't going nowhere.  God I felt like shite.  The pain was way off the charts, and had spread (referred pain's a bitch) right across my shoulders, back, down my arms, hips, the works.  And yep, still chucking up; not fun by this time with nothing in my stomach. 

By Wednesday, I'd improved a little, thank heavens, it was all a bit much and very tedious as these things are, and we managed to head off for our picnic.  Not so nice a day as Tuesday, naturally (thus my luck) but still pretty nice.  I did chicken satay skewers, a few cold meats and salamis and cheese, salad, and a great bottle of Pemberton white wine.  All very delicious and much enjoyed by us both.

However, good things can't last, and I was way too previous in my diagnosis of slight improvement.  As if the pain and frustration wasn't enough to take, Wednesday night I was hit by wave after wave of vertigo that left me squeaking and swearing under my breath, grabbing onto walls, desks, tables, Tuxedo, anything to keep me upright and still until the reeling came under control.  I was even having vertigo lying still in bed; now that's disconcerting.

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Thursday I was still a mess, but I had hopes that my session with Pollie at the rehab. hospital would sort things out.  Pollie was pretty concerned by my report, and by my general appearance and lack of balance.  She did a little light massage on my neck and back, gradually increasing pressure as the dizzy spells wore off.  Such a relief ... I felt a thousand times better when I was done and loads happier.  That's that then, thought I.

HA!  No chance ... I was fine the rest of Thursday, and Friday morning and then - you guessed it the pain hit hard again and I crashed to the floor with a vertigo spell before I could catch hold of anything.  SO undignified.  And fucking scary, to be frank.  So I called Pollie in a panic, but she wouldn't see me or do anything because she was concerned that given my hypermobility, the car accident and the vertigo there could be possibility of fracture and I should have a CT Scan and x-rays.  ARGH. 

So I called Zeus in a panic, but he couldn't do anything, it being Friday, so I had to get through the whole weekend before being able to get the scans and x-rays on Monday.  Gee, that was a nice weekend ... Monday I had the CT Scan and x-rays (and gee, that was fun; they only needed about half a dozen pictures but they had to re-do each one twice, and one they couldn't get at and they took seven tries, using different machines and positions and wrenched me around something awful in the process, so I was in major muscle spasm after all that - hurrah for the health profession eh?)

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So still waiting for those pics ... oh what an exciting life I lead.  I'm pretty sure there's no problem - well, no new ones - so I'm not particularly worried, except that when the radiologist/s were trying to get the last pic. they were muttering dire things under their breaths about vertebra 1 and 2 ... Really not good for one's nerves, that kind of "professionalism".

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