Time For Change

I noticed it while on my walk this morning. The first signs of change. The air is a little cooler. The sun rises a little later. And the leaves...

Normally, when I see the leaves beginning to turn, I get a feeling of anticipation. Actually it's more like excitement. Fall is my absolute favourite season of the year. And there is nothing quite like fall in Ontario. But the feeling I had today was closer to apprehension than anticipation.

It's not that I've suddenly changed my mind about the seasons, it just that the arrival of fall also heralds the arrival of cold and flu season. And I am not looking forward to that.

Having a cold plus a vestibular disorder can be a whole other level of suffering. It's like having regular cold symptoms, and then some. Like the cold symptoms have been supersized. Or like the cold symptoms are on steroids. Simply stated, a cold can feel so much worse for someone who has vestibular issues.

Many of us already experience cold-like symptoms with our disorder. We can feel as though our ears are plugged or full. There is sometimes nasal or sinus stuffiness. Increased head pressure which gives the feeling of heavyheadedness or sometimes lightheadedness. Head and neck pain. Headache. Nausea and upset stomach. And, of course, dizziness. While some of us take  medications to help alleviate these symptoms, quite often these medications can suppress or weaken our immune system, making us more susceptible to infections and illness. 

While the average person can take a NeoCitran, feel awful for a couple of days and then recover - a common cold can exacerbate our vestibular symptoms, cause a flare up and lead to a double dose of distress. Miserable symptoms on top of already miserable symptoms. A cold or flu can hit us twice as hard, last twice as long and take longer to recover from. Is it any wonder that some of us dread the change of seasons?

I read an article recently about boosting your immune system and how that can be a good way to protect yourself from the flu. So I've decided to make a few changes for myself this year.

How I'm Boosting My Immune System this Fall.

1. Antioxidants: I personally do not like blueberries, but research has shown that blueberries have the highest concentration of antioxidants in all common fruits and vegetables. Since it's the texture of the fruit that I dislike, rather than the flavour, I'm willing to try them in a beverage. If I find that I like this smoothie, then perhaps I'll try making my own with fresh blueberries. Here is a list of some other antioxidants

2. Vitamin C: I drink a glass of fresh orange juice every day and love all citrus fruit,  but just recently I read, that red bell peppers contain more Vitamin C, than the average orange. So I will buy some and slice them up for a quick snack. 

3. Zinc: Zinc is known for its ability to fight infections and heal wounds and has become a popular treatment for colds. Some studies have found that taking zinc lozenges can reduce the duration of a cold up to 1 or 2 days. You can find more information about zinc here.

4. Oil of Oregano: When I worked full time in a Kindergarten classroom, I used to take this at the first sign of a cold. Since I no longer work in school, I haven't felt quite the same need to take it. However, I picked some up today and will begin taking it as a preventative measure. Some people find the taste of the tincture unpleasant, but I don't mind it. Oil of Oregano is also available in capsule form.

5. Echinacea:  A similar supplement to Oil of Oregano and comes in many forms. Although I bought some today, I may not try it this time around, as the zinc lozenges I purchased also contain echinacea. 

6: Stay Hydrated: Hydrate, hydrate, hydrate! I cannot list all the benefits of hydration here, as it would take far too long. But you don't have to search the internet too hard to find a host of articles which will attest to the benefits of drinking water.  I don't naturally gravitate toward water, but I love sparkling water. And if you serve it with a slice of lemon, you'll be adding extra Vitamin C, too. Also, water with fresh ginger is a new favourite of mine.This is especially good when I'm feeling nauseous. 

7. Sleep: I've recently developed some poor sleep habits. As a writer, inspiration and creative ideas often come to me in the middle of the night. And since I do most of my writing on my phone, I can also get distracted by social media and end up scrolling into the wee hours of the night. So instead I'm now going to keep a notepad by the bed for when creativity strikes and leave the phone off until morning. This should mean more rest, less fatigue and an altogether better sleep routine.

8. Stress: Apart from a personal family issue, my biggest stressor is worrying about getting sicker. Both with the flu and the Coronavirus.  I'm realizing however, that by wearing masks, washing hands, using hand sanitizer and wearing gloves to slow the spread of Covid 19, we are also inadvertently reducing the spread of the flu virus too. Since both the common cold and the flu virus are transmitted by respiratory  droplets from coughing and sneezing, wearing a mask can also potentially reduce that risk too. Most people are doing their very best with this, so I'm trying to worry less about it, which will greatly reduce overall stress.

9. Exercise: This is perhaps the one area where I do not need to make any changes. I'm at the gym 3 days a week and will either walk or do a run/walk every other day. Plus, Zumba classes restart in the fall, which I will try to attend once a week, if dizziness allows. For Zumba, I stay at the back of the class and modify the quick turns and fast routines by just marching on the spot.

Ultimately, what this all comes down to is protection. If it's raining, we carry an umbrella and take a rain jacket. If it's sunny, we wear sunscreen. And if we're headed into the woods, we apply insect repellent. 

So these are the small changes I'm planning to make in the hope that they may prevent me getting from getting sick this fall season. However, this is 2020, the year to expect the unexpected. I cannot make any bold promises, claims or guarantees that boosting my immune system will prevent me from catching a cold or the flu - but it certainly won't hurt to try! Perhaps I will do an update post at the end of the year, to let you know if this was successful or not.

Until then, I'm going to enjoy the last of the summer, and look forward to fall. Pumpkin patches, apple picking, corn mazes, hay bales and wagon rides, here I come!

 

Do you take any preventative measures to avoid getting a cold or the flu? Please share any tips you have.

(*Please consult a doctor or pharmacist about nutritional supplements for yourself*)

 

Broken?

 I'm a sucker for a happy ending. I love when you get to the part where they say ..."And they all lived happily ever after". The heart warming, feel good conclusion -  where all the loose ends are neatly tied up, you experience all the big emotions, and then you're left feeling, well...happy. 

Whether it's a book, a movie or real life, I like to quickly get to the part where everything will be okay. I've been known to skip a few pages (or even a few chapters) of a book just so I can be in that happy place faster. And now that almost everything we watch on TV can be streamed, it's so much easier to do. I can fast forward through the boring parts, the seemingly irrelevant parts, the sad, the tense, the tragic or the scary parts.

 Growing up watching TV in the 1970's, the fast forward option was not available. We would have to sit through an entire show. Beginning, middle and end. I distinctly remember crying through the sad parts of  movies such as Bambi and Dumbo. And I always covered my eyes during the scary parts of Scooby Doo. (well, I found it scary)!

If only we could fast forward through some of the hard seasons of life. 

I'm in the middle of a hard season right now. I call it the 'messy middle'. It's messy because it's unpredictable, it's uncertain and very uncomfortable. It's messy because despite all my good intentions,  and trying hard to maintain a positive attitude, I still find myself swinging like a pendulum, between memories of the old Elaine, BC (before crisis), and accepting the new Elaine, AD (after devastation). Two and a half years later,  I still feel very much devastated by this illness. I still feel broken.

But I believe beauty can exist in brokenness. 

I suppose that's one of the reasons why I've always loved mosaics. I find it fascinating, that thousands and thousands of broken pieces can be carefully crafted together to recreate something beautiful

A table top mosaic using broken CD's.

The finished product.

Nice analogy Elaine, but what about real life?

To find beauty from brokenness in real life, I need look no further than the life of Joni Eareckson Tada. Joni was just 17 years old , when in 1967 she dived head first into the shallow waters of Chesapeake Bay. She hit the bottom and broke her neck. Instantly she was paralyzed from the shoulders down and became a quadriplegic. 

Joni has been in a wheelchair for decades. She's now an accomplished author, inspirational speaker, singer, radio host and advocate for disability, with her organization Joni And Friends. She is also an extraordinary artist: painting by mouth.

After her diving accident, Joni fell into a deep depression and desperately wanted to end her life. But without the use of her hands, she had no way of acting out her suicidal thoughts. Joni even asked her family and friends to help her to die. They of course refused. Their deep Christian faith would not allow them to even consider that. But they prayed earnestly for her. Every day. Eventually, her depression started to lift and she entered rehabilitation. While there, she learned to write her name by holding a pen in her mouth. Then one day someone handed her a paintbrush...

Her early days.

Her painting, 'Light In The Forest'.

Years later, still painting.

Joni Eareckson Tada is the essence of beauty coming from a place of brokenness.  Her tragedy could have left her wallowing in self pity, but instead she transcended the limits of her wheelchair and is living proof that a broken neck doesn't always signify a broken life. She is an inspiration to both the disabled and able bodied community alike.

I consider myself fortunate not have an overwhelming physical disability like Joni. My disability is invisible. When you live with an invisible disability, it is often hard for others to see or understand the many limitations that come with a chronic vestibular disorder. But trust me - they are very much there. My condition does not confine me to a wheelchair, but there are many days when the debilitating symptoms keep me confined to my bed. And it is these symptoms that can often lead to a  feeling of brokenness.

 As much as I would like to fast forward through the 'messy middle' of my life story, I know that isn't possible. I live in the present, not the future. However, recently I'm starting to see that the heart of my story is in the middle. It's in the hardships, the adversity and the trials. It's in the daily difficulties and challenges that I must overcome. It's here in these dark places, that the seeds of  inner strength are planted, take root and begin to grow.

So, how do I end this post? I can't really finish by saying..."and she lived happily every after". That chapter of the story is still being written. So maybe I'll just say this: 'Although she was broken by her illness, she was not broken beyond repair. She picked up the pieces of her shattered life and began to turn her mess, into a message. And it is a message of hope. Hope that is created from brokenness. Every day she is fashioning those pieces into her own unique ever after. And yes, I'm quite sure some of it will be very happy'.

My new favourite mosaic...

Warrior

 

The Long And Winding Road To Recovery.

 

"I'm on the road to recovery..."

You've probably heard that said somewhere before. Chances are, you've probably said it yourself. Maybe you said it after a bad bout of the flu, or a prolonged illness. Maybe you said it after an injury or following surgery. Whatever the circumstance was, you said it and then shortly afterward, you undoubtedly made a recovery.

I've said it too. I've actually been saying it for the past two years. Technically speaking, I've been on the road to recovery since June 25th, 2018 - the day I got Vestibular Neuritis. However, I'm finding more and more that recovery from a chronic vestibular condition can be a very slippery experience.  Like trying to pick up wet soap - it's elusive and hard to grasp. Also, recovery can be a shape-shifter. Something that constantly changes. My definition of recovery can often change depending on who I'm speaking to. And I've come to see that medical professionals have a very different view of recovery than what I do.

My ENT tells me that after two years I should've fully compensated for the nerve damage I received when I got VN, and should no longer be exibiting symptoms. My family doctor and I no longer discuss my vestibular issues. Since I don't bring it up (or burst into tears at the mere mention of the word vertigo) I'm sure she thinks I must've recovered. Every exercise that was given to me by my vestibular physical therapist I've been able to do successfully, and I haven't had an appointment in over a year - hence, recovery. I've also been off anti depressants and anti anxiety medication for 18 months and it's been 9 months since I last spoke to my therapist. So I'm fixed, right?

On paper, it would appear that I've made a full and complete recovery. On paper that is. But in reality, I am dizzy all day every day. While at night, when I climb into bed, it feels as though I drop two stories from the second floor into the basement several times before I fall asleep. There are days when I'm so dizzy I can't even get out of bed, not to mention the balance issues, brain fog, headaches, nausea and general fatigue that comes with this disorder. So this is recovery? I know they say it isn't linear, but this is not at all how I imagined it would be. 

As a creative writer, I tend to use metaphors more than most people. It's not that I'm trying to be poetic, but I find that having a visual reference when comparing something to something else, makes it easier for me to understand. I took the saying 'road to recovery' quite literally and imagined it that way in my head.

 Recovery As A Destination

In the beginning I viewed my road to recovery as a destination - a place I had to get to. I followed my doctors orders to the letter and religiously did my VRT. Although I didn't know how long it was going to take, I knew I would get there eventually. I imagined this destination to be a place of physical and mental wellness and complete healing. This healing would have me feeling better than I've ever felt before. This was a wonderful image.  The problem is - what I pictured in my head was a five star, all inclusive, luxury resort in a tropical paradise, type of recovery -  what I got was a run down one star budget motel in the middle of nowhere! 

Recovery As A Journey

For a while I pictured recovery as a journey. A lot of people have been known to visualize it that way. There are all kinds of quotes telling us how to find "Joy In The Journey" . I love to travel and enjoy all aspects of it. I'm not the person that you hear saying  "are we there yet?"  because I enjoy the getting there part of the journey almost as much as being there. I love going to the airport, being at the airport, taking off and landing. Why, I even enjoy the meals that are served on the plane. So it wasn't too difficult for me to transfer those feelings into the image of a recovery journey. I understood that sometimes a journey can be long, and even difficult, however after two years, this image has started to wear a little thin. Finding joy in the journey is one thing, but there isn't much joy to be found circling around and around like an plane in an endless holding pattern (no pun intended). 

Recovery As A Road 

Recently I've started to see my road to recovery as the actual road itself. More specifically a road called Yonge Street. Yonge Street is approximately 250 metres from my back door and it is the longest street in the world (Google it!) I can see a small section of it from my bathroom window. Yonge Street stretches 1178 miles from Lake Shore in Downtown Toronto to the Rainy River at the Ontario/Minnesota border. The downtown parts of the street are tourism, busy shopping, restaurants, offices and entertainment. Where I'm located it is more suburban residential, with some local businesses. And further north you arrive in farm and cottage country, where there are long stretches of lonely rural highway. But the one thing that is consistent along the entire length of Yonge Street -  is the construction. At any given time, day or night, throughout every season of the year, you will find construction. It is a road that is constantly under repair and these repairs can cause delays, detours and even road closures.

For now this image is perfect for me. I'm on a very long and winding road to recovery. My recovery will not only be long, it is quite possible that it will be life long.  It is a road that is full of cracks, bumps and potholes. A road where there is always construction and I should expect delays. I truly wish it was a freshly paved express highway that would lead to a miracle cure, instead of a slow moving city street under constant construction, but that is my reality.  However I choose to picture it, this is where I am right now and as long as there is some improvement, to either body or mind, then I guess this is recovery. 

Did you have a picture in your mind of  what your recovery might look like? Does it match your reality?

 

Finger On The Trigger

They say that knowledge is power, but a little knowledge is a dangerous thing. I found out the hard way, that both of these statements are true. 

I'm don't know when I began to feel as though I knew a lot about my vestibular disorder.  I'm sure Google is partly to blame. But maybe it's because my ENT remarked that I seem to be quite knowledgeable about my condition, at my appointment a few weeks ago. Maybe it's because I'm currently enjoying a period of wellness, where my symptoms are mild and mostly manageable. Maybe it's because I'm now used to living this way. Maybe it's because I thought the onset was as bad as it would ever get and the worst of it was in the rearview. Maybe it's because I've been able to weave my thoughts about vestubular disorders into poetry with four stanzas and an cute end rhyme. Maybe it's a combination of all of these things. But whatever I knew or thought I knew, I. Was. Wrong.

A few days ago I was completely blindsided by an attack of dizziness unlike anything I've experienced to this date. I was standing in my garden pruning some shrubs, when I suddenly felt what can only be described as a strange swirling and rushing sensation - almost like a tornado. It seemed to start somewhere in the middle of my back, but moved quickly upwards past my shoulders, through my neck. Then upwards from the back of my head to the front, finally settling in front of my eyes - leaving me dizzy, shaking, sweating and seeing double, before I could even process what was happening to me or weakly mouth the word "help". 

It was sudden, intense and very scary.

I haven't had dizziness this bad in a while and, truth be told,  I wasn't really quite sure how to respond. I'd forgotten all my coping strategies and began to panic. Fortunately my neighbour, Miranda was there and able to assist me.

In all likelihood, this dizzy spell was triggered by the extreme heat. However, I can't be entirely sure since I haven't reacted that way in similar temperatures. I now realize that I've been a bit lazy about noting what my triggers are. Also, I haven't been monitoring and tracking my symptoms very carefully. I used to do it frequently in the beginning, when all of this was new, and I was desperately looking for a cure (or at least some answers and coping strategies). Over the last two years it seems I've been adapting. My vestibular system is broken, so I've just learned to walk with a limp. Adaptation is great, but how does that prepare me for future attacks? And what about the knowing my triggers?

Since my dizziness never consults my calendar or agenda to see if it's convenient and since I cannot postpone a vertigo attack for day when I'm less busy. I have to be a little better prepared as an attack can come with or without warning - anywhere, anytime.

It occurred to me that I have to approach my vestibular disorder a little bit like a firefighter. Firefighters are ready to deal with emergencies at all times. When the alarm goes off, they immediately kick into high gear and are ready to go. Every emergency is different - no two fires are exactly the same. Sometimes it's a five engine call out and other times it may be as simple as rescuing a kitten from a tree. Yes, they have a lot of downtime, but they use that time to fine-tune their skills and practice regular fire drills so that they are always fully prepared. I need to do that.

I've now decided to do what I call my monthly 'Dizziness Drill'. It is a scheduled appointment I will keep with myself, so that when I have an attack, my response will be automatic and I'll know exactly what to do. The aim is to practice my proven calming strategies when I'm not having an attack, so that I know what to do when it happens again.

My Dizziness Drill :-

1: Deep breathing and relaxation techniques

2: Listen to a guided meditation (save any good ones)

3: Recite my favourite calming bible verses, quotes or mantras

4: Recite my dizziness playlist (add or take away songs)

5: Review my symptom tracker and note any new or potential trigger activity

6: Make sure my 'essentials' (ginger, anti nausea meds, essential oils etc...) are fully stocked and easily 

    accessible.

A little while ago, I created a 'dizziness playlist' for myself. It consists of songs that are quiet and calming. Having them on a playlist makes them easily accessible. I've also saved a few guided meditations straight to my phone. Again, making them easier to find when needed.

A new thing that I'm trying is a symptom tracking app. This will help me see what my potential triggers are and hopefully avoid them. I'm sure every firefighter would agree that fire prevention is a much better alternative to firefighting.

I'm conscious that we now live in the era of Covid 19. People are encouraged to stay six feet away from each other. I no longer have any expectations or guarantees that anyone will come to my assistance, should I be unfortunate enough for this to happen in a public place. I have to be ready to handle the situation by myself if necessary.

Vestibular disorders are complex. Yes, I know a little bit about my disorder, but I still have so much to learn. Attacks can vary in intensity and length. They constantly evolve and change, and what worked for me in the past may not necessarily work in the future. So I need to be vigilant and aware at all times. I need to keep my finger on the triggers, so to speak. Because, well...you just never know.

How do you monitor what your triggers are? Do you practice how to manage a bad vertigo/dizzy attack?