I Was Attacked In The City

I was attacked in the city today.

It was around lunch time so the mall was full of people. I had just left a business meeting with my 85yr old father. Although I try to walk slowly to stay close to him, I usually end up a couple of metres ahead.

As we were walking down the lower part of Brisbane’s Queen Street Mall, I noticed the awning above had cast a striped shadow on the pavement in front of me. Without warning, my head & left ear tingled like a sharp electric shock, and suddenly, everything started to spin violently. I rapidly mumbled “f**k, f**k, f**k” and reached out to the left, stumbling towards a shop window.

Grasping the window with my left hand, I held my forehead with the other and pressed my head against the glass, to feel something stable & remain upright.

My father had now caught up to me and could see that something was wrong. I told him I was having a Ménières attack. There was little he could do to help other than stand nearby, watching with concern.

After a minute or so the vertigo started to subside, so I could now see the scene around me. A bench was a few metres away and I thought, “Maybe I should try to sit down?”, then I saw the face of a man seated on the bench. He was staring at me inquisitively, like I was a specimen in a bottle, or a drama show unfolding. I looked around and noticed a few other faces staring at me. Necks craned as they walked by.

Nobody stopped to help me; nobody looked sympathetic to my crisis. I wasn't bleeding. I wasn't old. I wasn't crippled. I looked strong, so why should anyone care? For the most part Ménières disease is an invisible illness, so bystanders have no idea of the terror that is being inflicted upon the sufferer during an attack.

The 19th century poet Henry David Thoreau wrote that most men lead “lives of quiet desperation.” This is tragically true of people afflicted by Vestibular disorders like Ménières disease. The isolation that comes from the ever present dizziness & hearing loss, punctuated by moments of frightening, spontaneous vertigo; surely there can be nothing so quietly desperate.

Dear reader, please remember my story and share it with others, so that people enduring Vestibular disorders won’t feel so quietly desperate & alone. Empathy & understanding go a long way.

If you are compassionate &/or can relate to my story please:

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HAVE YOU HAD A SIMILAR EXPERIENCE? Share your story below.

Imagine… What it’s like to Have Meniere’s Disease

You know it's funny. When I tell people I have Ménière’s Disease they usually respond by saying, "what's that" or "never heard of it". No one has ever asked me what it's like to have Menieres. If they did I would describe it thus.

Imagine that you have one blocked ear. Feel that sensation. Sense the fullness. Strain to hear the haziness of muted sounds. Feel what it's like not being able to hear in an ear.

Now imagine that in addition to the blocked ear, a couple of crickets have somehow crawled into your ear & are making a constant white noise. Hear it? Hear the shhhh, buzzing or hissing sounds?

Now imagine that as well as the blocked ear & the crickets, you have a head cold or you’re just a little hung over so everything is a more complicated than usual. You feel mentally and physically drained, and need more time to accomplish the simplest of tasks. Light might affect you more. You might start bumping into things and have trouble thinking. You might even feel that it's unwise to drive. You feel it? Feel the fogginess?

 

Now imagine that adding to the blocked ear, the crickets & the hangover you now find yourself on a boat out at sea, rocking up & down, left & right. You look to the horizon to get your bearings but it's moving. So you feel hazy or perhaps nauseous. The waves go up & down; left & right. Can you imagine how that feels? (see video above)

Now to make matters worse you learn that you will likely never, ever get off this rocking boat. That's right.

Now imagine that you are alone on this boat and that all of your friends, family & work colleagues are back on dry land going about their lives with normal hearing & balance; cricket & hangover free (okay, maybe not hangover free). They don't understand what you're going through. Can you feel the isolation?

Now if you are very lucky, one day, after potentially years afloat, the boat you’re on will briefly go back to dry land and dock at a port called Remission. There you will have a chance to stand on solid ground, hear blissful silence, feel unblocked ears & experience hangover-free clarity of mind. And you know what that will feel like? Pure, unadulterated heaven.

While in Remission you will radiate from the sensation that everything good on this earth has been rolled up into one awesome, life changing, musical inspiring experience. For a few weeks or months you'll rediscover your smile, every breath will invigorate you, and everything around you, including the previously banal, will glow will be unabashed glory. Can you even begin to imagine that??

A sense of peace that comes from just the simplicity of good health, one you’ve likely never even noticed before, will come over you and suddenly life will be bathed in hope & optimism for the future... until, one day, you begin to notice your hearing going and the blocked ear coming back. Within days the crickets are chirping again, and before you know it you're on that boat again, alone, heading indefinitely out to rocky seas with no knowledge of when, or if, you will return to port. Now, can you imagine it? Feel the loneliness, disappointment & uncertainty of your future? It doesn't feel great.

That's one example of what it's like to have Meniere's Disease, and that's without describing the addition of random vertigo attacks. I'll save that description for another cruise.

HOW WOULD YOU DESCRIBE THE EXPERIENCE OF MENIERE’S DISEASE? Please share your experience in the comment section below.