Andy Warhol is Living in My Head

I have spent the last two weeks battling vertigo and dizziness. I’ve been to my doctor, I’ve seen an ENT and had two sessions with a physical therapist. The room no longer spins wildly, but I’m still dizzy, pretty much all of the time. Obviously, I’m going back to my ENT to see if it might be something else with my ears. If not, it’s back to my doctor, a cardiologist, a neurologist, a shaman, an acupuncturist, a witch doctor? I’m terrified. Not only because it might be something serious, but because it might be something that no one can figure out and I may have to live like this forever. How do I that? I can’t read comfortably, because l can’t look down. Even now, I have to stop typing periodically because I get dizzy. I can’t work on my jewelry. All I can really do is sit in bed, propped up on pillows watching infomercials. I just bought a nutribullet. Two for one! I know there are lessons to be learned here. I have a renewed commitment to eating better. Less sugar, less artificial sweetener, less salt and fat. Who knows how much influence that has on what I’m experiencing? I have more appreciation for my support network. My CFO who is trying to find a copy holder, so I don’t have to look down to read, my supervisor, who’s been very understanding about the amount of sick days I am taking, my colleagues, one who knows the maneuver my physical therapist does and does it for me on the floor of our office, the other who shares her smoothie with me in the hopes that the nutrition will help me. I have been on hold for two weeks. There were no birthday celebrations this year. They will have to wait until I feel better. And I have to believe I will feel better, what ever it takes. There is no other option. There are many fruit baskets waiting to be balanced on my unspinning head.



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