The Deafening Silence

Well, that was weird.

Woke up yesterday (12^th) completely deaf in my right ear.

Tried out exactly how deaf by putting my iPod headphone into the ear…

Nada. Nothing. Zilcho.

“Weird,” I said…sounding hollow.

“Dude, seriously, we need to get in the cab,” said Sally-Anne.

“Unff…” I said. And the day got started.

The hearing didn’t come back. And as the day progressed…things got weirder. Every time I got up from my seat, I wobbled and nearly fell over. Every time I went to put my computer on charge, involving bending down, I nearly fell over. And every time I walked anywhere, I had to continually correct my path, as I would be veering to the left with every step.

When the conference was over, I pretty much wanted to go home and die. I was queasy, disorientated, I could only hear through one ear and the same ear was hurting to boot.

“Yo, T Bag!” said Sally-Anne, in whose flat I was staying. “Gonna hit the hotel with some of these dudes for some drinks. Wanna come?”

I looked at her, with “Are you freakin’ kidding me?” in my eyes.

“Nah,” I said, admitting defeat. “Gimme keys.”

She did. I stumbled out, with my famed sense of direction, into the town. When I got off the first train heading home, I had a weird dizzy turn trying to get off the train, and nearly collapsed into a snarly London commuter. The second train was easier, and I made a determined effort to plant my landing. Looked stupid of course, but I’ll take looking stupid over falling down any day. I hadn’t eaten all day, conference buffets being tremendously, almost heroically dreadful. The queasiness was growing exponentially, so I figured the best thing to do was put something in my stomach. I popped into a restaurant.

“Oh we can seat you upstairs,” said the Aussie waitress.

Upstairs, I thought. Greeeat.

By this point, I was looking like a drunk, veering from side to side with almost every step. Going upstairs was like something from a psychedelic cartoon. I ordered a burger and fries.

“Where’s the bathroom?” I asked, feeling a need to pee.
“Downstairs, sir.”
“Sonofabitch,” I said casually, under my breath. Going downstairs was like being drunk in a psychedelic cartoon. Then I had to go back up to eat. Didn’t feel particularly alive doing that.
Stumbled into a cab and got the last bit of the journey over with.

Can I just say – speed bumps suck.

Got into Sally-Anne’s flat, and stumbled up her staircase to the bathroom. I could feel the spasms coming even as I climbed the staircase.

Just managed to get to the toilet before I was throwing up the few mouthfuls I’d eaten of the burger.

That was vomit session one.

Let me say…there were six sessions. Six completely separate sets of spasms. After the fourth session, I brushed my teeth. And then threw up again – nothing but bile and toothpaste. I got into my onesie and went to my couch. D called. “Might wanna put your phone on charge honey,” she advised.

“That means getting off the couch,” I told her.

“C’mon honey…”

I got up, plugged in the phone…and had to run up the stairs.

So…that was fun.

“Just think what your weigh-in will be like,” said d.

Thing is, today, I still can’t hear in that ear, still have pressure and whining in the place of sound, but have no real dizziness or queasiness. Have eaten steadily today…Which means the weigh in will reflect solid eating, not purgy puking…

Sigh…Talk about not being able to catch a break…

On the other hand, am now at home. Home gooood. Going to see the doc on Friday about this ear thing. Hopefully, that’ll sort me out. Of course, haven’t been to the gym over the last three days. Not sure yet if I can exercise – or should exercise, with this thing. Probably OK, unless I fall off the rowing machine!