In our household Mother's Day is traditionally a drinking holiday.
Oh, I'm not saying drinking like the Fourth of July drinking, or even New Year's Eve drinking, but the occasional Mimosa or champagne cocktail would not be considered out of place. After all, what better way to celebrate motherhood than to numb some of the side effects?
Sadly, this year my day did not effervesce with the traditional Bubbles of Euphoria. Because I was afraid to partake.
Yes, I, the 2-cherry Manhattan lovin', martini-swilling mama, was terrified to take even a single sip of an intoxicant. (Are you crying for me yet?)
Reason: Benign Positional Vertigo.
Which basically means the room spins if you tilt your head the wrong way. Possibly caused by labyrinthitis (a viral infection of the inner ear) or maybe by allergies (highly likely, considering our pollen counts lately)
When I woke up a few days ago, and rolled over in bed, I was overwhelmed by the same sensation one might expect after ingesting that ill-advised third martini. Now, it's not that I've never experienced the bed-spins before, but I've always had a pretty good time beforehand. In this case, I hadn't.
I managed to get myself upright, and all seemed okay. A passing thing, I thought. Until, while sitting on the toilet, I reach down to pick up a stray q-tip from the floor in front of me...and fell off the seat.
Okay, now that I had never done before. Even at my most inebriated (which, if I'm honest, isn't ever anything to brag about, because I tend to fall asleep before getting to the truly entertaining stage) I have always managed to keep myself firmly plastered (you should pardon the expression) to the toilet seat.
"Honey, are you okay?" the theater called when he heard me crash into the wall set conveniently close to the throne.
"Yeah, I'm fine," I lied, and picked myself up. "Just, uh, trying to change the roll of toilet paper."
I quickly figured out that if I held my head upright I could keep the room from spinning out of control, but the underlying vague dizziness continued. Know what a day of that causes?
Motion sickness. Whee. Spent the following evening getting better acquainted with my new best porcelain buddy.
If you'd like to get a good feel for my weekend, just have three or four martinis and watch this vid of my current theme song over and over again:
Fortunately, my tenure as the proverbial dizzy blond seems to be winding down. I was saved by the doctor-recommended Epley Maneuver. Apparently going through this very specific set of gyrations knocks your inner ear back into proper working order in about 80% of vertigo cases. It's holding true for me so far.
Now, there were some upsides to the whole dizzy blond thing. For instance, the theater god didn't think it would be safe for me to shower by myself, and helpfully offered to assist. (Isn't he a saint?) And laundry got put on hold, because walking up and down the basement stairs didn't seem like the best plan. And if I sat still on the sofa I could read or watch TV without too much difficulty.
But honestly? Next year I'd rather just have a drink.