Well hey, it wasn't hormones at all!
I know, I can't believe it either. But the MRI says that I had a small stroke in, um, my cerebellum. THAT would explain the vertigo. Ah, the cerebellum, the part of your brain you fail to appreciate until the world becomes a blender. Sorry, cerebellum . . .I appreciate you now! You have my full attention.
I got to ride in an ambulance, which would have been cool had I seen any of it, but I had a towel over my face the whole time to fight the blender effect. I got to have Valium in an IV, which is a very mellow experience . . .mellow as in "Stroke? Cool, whatever, man." Oh and I got to have an MRI, which was interesting because the Vallium was putting me to sleep and that made it hard to hold still because I was nodding off in the MRI machine.
But mostly I got to lie there and think "Me? A stroke? I can't have a stroke! I'm too young! My blood pressure isn't that high and my cholesterol isn't great but not bad enough to take medicine and nobody in my family has strokes! Strokes are for old people! Strokes are for really, really old people who listen to big band music and can't program the VCR! Wait . . .nobody has VCRs anymore . . .I'M OLD!!! I HAD A STROKE!!!
Yeah. Stuff like that.
The doctors and nurses were quick to point out, that it was a minor stroke and because of where it was located I was very very lucky/had a guardian angel/someone was looking out for me. Which is hard for me to accept, not because I am not grateful, but because if that's true then what does that say about the poor schmuck who has a stroke in a place that screws up his life in major ways? What, that person didn't get a guardian angel? Nobody looked out for them? No, I'm afraid I don't believe that. It just is what it is. My naughty blood clot got stuck in a fortuitous place.
So the vertigo is 99.9% gone but I still feel a tiny bit . . .wobbly. There goes my career on the balance beam. But mostly I am trying to get what is left of my brain around the idea that I actually had a stroke. Me. A person who doesn't polka and knows how to install programs on a PC and can even text. A little. Okay, kind of slowly, but still, I can text. I just didn't expect it. A stroke. Really. Me.
Anyway, now I have to take another pill, and go see a neurologist, and my regular doctor as well. I'd be bummed about all that except I can still actually take a pill, call the doctors, and even get myself to doctor's appointments. And, somehow, when I think of it that way, I'm kind of excited to do those things. So, cheerful agnostic that I am, I am grateful. Just not specifically grateful. But yanno, I figure that, if one day I discover I should have thanked somebody by name, well, I'll be very happy to do that.
It's one of the hard things about being human, isn't it? You don't know who to write your life's thank you cards to.