The Little Blue Men in My Head

Ok, you're gonna have to track with me here, but hopefully it will all make sense in the end.

Yesterday, was my appointment with the ear, nose & throat doctor to see if he could shed any light on the cause of my dizziness and double vision. First they tested my hearing, which appears to be intact. Next the doctor questioned me, quite thoroughly, about my symptoms. He seemed to really listen to me and he even took notes. Then he prescribed a very low dose of Valium because it is suppposed to help combat dizziness and he ordered an MRI.

We were able to go immediately to the imaging center. I realize that thousands of people get MRIs every day, but as I've mentioned before, I've always been blessed with good health and therfore don't have a lot of experience with these types of tests.

So I go in and the nice man in blue scubs tells me to have a seat on the table. He then proceeds to explain that the test is really very simple, but that its very loud. He instructs me on inserting spongey earplugs in my ears. Then he continues to explain things to me, but I really couldn't hear very well (because he'd done such a good job teaching me how to put in the earplugs). He did mention several times that it would be LOUD.

I laid down and he inserted an IV. Not a pleasant experience due to the small, rolling, collapsing veins that I inherited from my mother. Next he clamped the metal cage-thingy over my head and tightened down the screws. I felt a little like Hannibal Lector, or maybe Leonardo DiCaprio in the movie The Man in the Iron Mask. He warned me again that it was going to be LOUD.

I had no idea what he meant by that, but I think I assumed it would be like a jet engine roar or maybe even a freight train. But if you've ever had an MRI, then you know that LOUD refers to repeated banging and thumping noises for 30-45 minutes. With an emphasis on repeated, banging, thumping and 30-45 minutes. At one point, the thumping had a pretty catchy rhythm that reminded me of the two times I've gone to see The Blue Man Group. So from then on, I just closed my eyes and imagined I was in Boston or Chicago at a Blue Man show. This is what was going on inside my head:



I realize that 3 minutes is a long time to watch some freaks pounding on PVC, but you kinda get the idea now of how I spent 45 minutes of my time yesterday.

And then that reminded me of the song Destroyer by the Kinks. The abridged version goes a little like this:
Dr. Dr. help me please, I know you'll understand...
There's a red, under my bed
And there's a little green man in my head
And he said, you're not goin' crazy, you're just a bit sad

I'm not really sure what a "red" under my bed is...probably some sort of drug reference... like maybe say...valium? And the men in my head were blue, not green, but overall the doctor told me that I'm not going crazy...or deaf or blind. He said I have Bell's Palsy...which is what we already knew. But he said its just going to take while to fully recover.

He sent me to an eye doctor today who did lots of "fun" tests (read: extremely painful drops and excruciating bright lights). And guess what? She said the same thing. "You have Bell's Palsy and its just going to take a while to recover."

So I'm relieved that there are no masses in my head or permanent injury to my eye. Now I just have to wait. Well, at least I have valium...

Even if it doesn't STOP the spinning, maybe it will take the edge off so that I don't mind the spinning quite as much. That should make the little blue men in my head happy.

And the Plot Thickens...

I had hoped that I would be able to retire the recurring theme of "I'm donating my body to science", but alas, another chapter is now unfolding. I finished the last of my medication one week ago. I am soooo happy to be off of all antivirals, antibiotics and steroids now! I may have mentioned that the cure for my bout with Bell's palsy and shingles has been almost as bad, no, let me re-phrase, much worse than the original symptoms. Even the excruciating pain from my wickedly swollen earlobe pales in comparison to the side effects I've suffered at the hands of prednisone. So I did a little happy dance last Tuesday when I took the last pill.

On Wednesday, I began experiencing some dizziness. I assumed it was from coming off the medication. However, on Thursday it continued to worsen to the point that I felt like a pinball every time I tried to walk, bumping off walls and furniture. You know the old Carole King song, "I feel the earth. move. under my feet. I feel the sky. come. tumbling down. tum-ble-ing down."? Well, that's me.

On Friday, BigJoel had to go to Canada so my precious mother-in-law came and got the girls for school because we knew that if I couldn't even walk a straight line, I shouldn't be driving a motor vehicle. My sweet friend Johanna took me to the doctor. (I felt like a MeMaw having to be driven to my appointments, but at least I don't have silver-blue hair yet. )

I love my family doctor, but at this point, I think I've progressed beyond the realm of her expertise. She referred me to an ear, nose and throat specialist because, and I quote, "the rocks in your ear are out of whack". So I have an appointment later this week to see if I can get the rocks in my head to behave themselves.

It is different from the vertigo I experienced a year ago where sudden movement would bring on a tornadic spinning sensation followed by severe nausea. The spinning is constant. It doesn't seem to be related to my position. And my eyes are not cooperating with each other. They cannot agree about what to focus on. BUT, I am not nauseated...so at least "I've got that going for me." (Reference: Bill Murray, Caddyshack. Its not the Dali Llama, but I'll take what I can get.)

So I'm trying to be patient. But patience does not inspire funny blog posts. I refuse to give in to the darkness and depression that is slowly encroaching. I will continue to do my best to keep my crazy to myself, but I hope you'll forgive an occasional pity party.

Your prayers are appreciated.

God Reads My Blog!

You may or may not have noticed/cared that I have a little gadget over on my sidebar called "Daily Snippets from the Word". Its free and I thought the Michelangelo-ish angels complemented my layout rather nicely.

Today when I opened my blog, this was the verse:

He will yet fill your mouth with laughing, and your lips with rejoicing.
Job 8:21

(It may or may not still be over there. It changes frequently...uh, probably daily...hence the name.)

Anyway, since my children have delighted in making fun of my inability to smile and slurred speech due to my temporary facial paralysis, this was truly a Divine Word of encouragement. So I may not have the largest readership on the blog-o-sphere, but apparently I have the attention of the One who matters most.

Woe is Me

I've started a couple of different posts this week, but they wind up sounding like I'm a wah-wah-crybaby, so I'm going to keep my crazy to myself.

Let me just say that Weapons of Mass Destruction have nothing on the shingles.

And that's all I have to say about that.


I'll get back to you when I'm in a little better state of mind.

Close, But Yet So Far

Well, I made it to church yesterday and other than the fact that apparently operating only one side of your face tires you out more quickly than using both sides, I had a very good day. I thought I'd reached the end of my growing list of symptoms and was basking in the light at the end of the tunnel. Until...as I was changing clothes I felt a small rough-ish patch on my shoulder. I asked Joel what it looked like and his reply was, "Poison ivy." I knew this was impossible because the last time I was exposed to poison ivy, I was 8 years old on a Girl Scout camping trip. Not the outdoorsy type, am I. But the over-65 population at church on Sunday evening knew immediately what it was...shingles!

Another call to the doctor this morning. The receptionist said my regular physician was booked, but she'd be happy to schedule me with someone else or I could wait until 4:00 tomorrow. I declined having to rehash my medical history with yet another stranger and asked to leave a voicemail. When Dr. M returned my call after lunch, the minute I mentioned a small patch that looks like poison ivy, she gasped, "Its shingles! I need to see you this afternoon."

And so the saga continues...

You know the saying about hindsight being 20/20? I believe it was coined for just such an occasion as this. As we laid it all out in the doctor's office this afternoon, it was like putting pieces of the puzzle together. All the way back to last Wednesday when my only real symptoms were a swollen lymph node and that when I drank carbonated beverages my ear drum burned. Hot liquids felt soothing, cold drinks were no problem, but DietCoke caused a tingling burning sensation deep inside my ear. We focused on the lymph node and didn't catch the warning signs of nerve impairment.

So Bell's Palsey does not cause shingles, it is a side effect of shingles. In my case, it just happened to identify itself more quickly than the real culprit. So while I thought the worst was over, I now have oozing, weeping and scabbing of the "poison ivy" patch to look forward to. Oh, and excruciating pain.

Well, the next few weeks might not be pleasant, but should be interesting. Let me just apologize ahead of time for anything I might say or do in the near future...we'll just chalk it up to all the steroids, anti-virals, antibiotics and pain killers that now live on my nightstand. K? Thx.

Another Day, Another Set of Symptoms

Here's an update in the ongoing saga of my mystery illness. Its a lengthy post and kind of like a bad episode of "House, M.D.", but if you're interested, make yourself comfortable and read on.

As I mentioned yesterday, I had a call in to the doctor to see if I needed to come in again. When I finally spoke with her, she said, yes, I did need to be seen but unfortunately she would be out of the office. She scheduled me in with one of her perfectly capable associates.

This time, the focus was more on the ear lobe than the lymph node, resulting in a change of antibiotics, a high-powered ointment and thankfully, some pain medication. Official diagnosis: post-auricle cellulitis (an infection of the tissure surrounding the ear).

I was optimistic that I would take/apply the meds, and fall into a deep, hydrocodone-induced sleep. I just knew that when I awoke, I would be pain-free and the swelling would be reduced enough to venture out into public without frightening small children.

But no. While the ointment did seem to provide a little relief to the raw area behind my protruding earlobe, the pain medicine did not even touch my discomfort. I tossed and turned all.night.long. I finally fell asleep about 6:15 a.m.

When I awoke three hours later, I stumbled to the kitchen to get my customary first-thing-in-the-morning Diet Coke. But when I started to take a sip, I had the oddest sensation. You know that feeling when you've been to the dentist and he puts your gums to sleep, but your tongue and lips are also affected? Yes. That was the feeling. Only I hadn't been to the dentist.

The doctor on Friday had been very adamant that she would be working the Saturday clinic and if I needed anything to come back. I felt this merited a return trip.

Upon our arrival, I was immediately referred to the Emergency Room. I guess something about the severe swelling and numbness affecting the entire right side of my face caused the clinic personnel to think I might need a little more in depth medical attention.

I haven't spent a lot of time in Emergency Rooms and I've never been there on my own behalf. So now I am at the mercy of a third medical professional who, of course, disregards either of the previous diagnoses.

"We're going to do some tests," he says. The lab comes in to draw blood. No surprise. Someone else comes in to do a Strep culture. Pretty routine. Next, however, a nice man arrived with a wheelchair to take me to get a CT Scan. When the doctor said "tests", I didn't know this is what he was referring to. A little intimidating...because I've never had one. Only seen them on episodes of ER when they are diagnosing a brain tumor or a construction workers' cranium has been impaled by metal re-barre.

Turns out a CT Scan's not really that bad, except for the part where they tell you, "Don't breathe or swallow." Something about the power of suggestion, because suddenly I needed to take a breath and swallow. Then there's that "warm sensation" when they shoot die or something into your IV. I'm glad the technician warned me, otherwise I would have thought I'd wet my pants.

To make a long story short (I know, too late for that) I DO NOT have Strep, mono, an abscess in a lymph node, a brain tumor or re-barre. What I do have now is Bells Palsey, a temporary paralysis of the face caused by trauma to the 7th cranial nerve. Probably, the extensive swelling of my lymph node put undue pressure on the nerve and I woke up after 3 hours of sleep with the right side of my face almost completely paralyzed. The prognosis is good. The paralysis peaks within 48 hours of onset and does not spread or get worse. Full muscle control usually returns within 2 weeks. (I'm sure someone out there probably has a horror story about Bells Palsey and their aunt's sister-in-law's cousin, but I'd appreciate it if you'd kindly keep that to yourself.)

So I'm on steroids for the next two weeks and the pain medicine they gave me at the hospital helped tremendously. Just now, as HannahKate went to bed she asked, "So are you going to church tomorrow?" I told her, "If I feel like this tomorrow, I'm going to church. But since I've woken up to a different set of symptoms every day since Wednesday, let's just wait and see."

And so, we will wait and see...

"Ears" Lookin' at You

You know the old wives tale that says if your ears are burning, someone is talking about you? If there is any merit in that whatsoever, then I have been quite the topic of conversation somewhere lately.

On Tuesday, I noticed the lymph node under my right ear was a bit swollen. On Wednesday, it was worse and also very tender to the touch, so I went to see the doctor. She did a cursory exam and said I appeared to have some fluid in the eustacian tube and prescribed a five day round of antibiotics.

On Thursday, the swelling had worsened enough that it was visible. The entire right side of my neck and down into my shoulder hurt. And for some strange reason, my ear lobe began to swell. By last night, I was miserable. I kept the heating pad on my neck, took ibuprofen and tried to make myself comfortable.

So this morning, I'm three days into my five day regime of antibiotics and should be well on the road to recovery. But I'm not...the lymph node has improved a little, maybe, but is still extremely swollen and tender. And now, my ear lobe! Its huge! It is so swollen, it is almost perpendicular to my head! Its freakish. I took pictures of it so you could see it. Otherwise, you might never believe me. I also took one of my left ear to prove that I am not normally prone to large, protruding ear lobes. Beware, the following images are quite graphic and may not be suitable for young children.

See? Left ear. Perfectly normal.

Right ear. Freakishly large.

I do have a call in to the doctor, since this is Friday. I would hate to have my ear lobe rupture over the weekend. The swelling in the lymph node is pronounced enough that I have trouble turning my head, but at least its not disfiguring. This ear thing, on the other hand, might keep me from venturing out in public for fear of being shunned like the Elephant Man.

So back to the wives' tale. I cannot imagine what I could have possibly done that would warrant someone talking about me to the point that my ear would not only burn, but become inflamed and swell up like a cherry tomato. Whatever it was, I'm sorry. So sorry. Could you please send a few kind words my way now? Cool, soothing, balm-like words...thank you. Thank you very much.