Is that even a word? If it’s not, it should be. OF COURSE, I can’t just wonder, I HAD to look it up, and yeah, if you’re wondering, it IS a word. It means upset, confused, and that’s what I am. Can’t seem to get my feet totally under me since getting back from Florida. Actually, it began there, now that I think about it.

When I woke up the first morning at my aunt’s house, when I sat up, the room started spinning. I thought, “Whooooooaaaa”, and wanted to put a foot on the floor to stop the spinning. Reminded me of some of those mornings back in “the day”…but on this particular morning, there was no reason to be spinnin’….in college, well, plenty of reason.

I didn’t think too much about it until later that day on the beach. Aunt P lives about 45 minutes from the coast, and I couldn’t wait to get there! It was a BEAUTIFUL October day, and when my body’s that close to sand and surf, well, I’ll knock down old women and children to bury my toes in the sand. This is not something I’m proud of, but it’s the truth. Forget my aunt, forget my kids, forget Tad, in less time than it’ll take for me to finish typing this sentence, I had my suit on, a drink in hand, and cross-my-arms-blink-blink I was out the door. They know this about me, so thank goodness, they’re a rather forgiving lot.

It was high tide, so there wasn’t much beach to set up a chair, which was fine, because really, how much room do you need? In spite of the salt-rusted hinges, down went the head of my chair in full recline, out-in-a-pop unfurled my hot pink beach towel covering fine woven plastic, and down I plopped, fat, dumb and happy (actually, only one of those three, and if you choose wrongly, I shall hunt you down and hurt you. Choose wisely, I’m discombobulated. And postal.) About this time, the kids had found their way to the beach, too, that’s important in this part of “the telling”.

As soon as I tilted back my head to lie down, the room started spinning. Except this time, there was no room…instead, it was blue sky and white clouds and a loud ocean and glittering sand and high-rise condos…. aggggggghhhhhh! It was wicked and nauseating and totally disorienting; my first thought was “Oh, no! I’ve got a brain tumor!” (Yeah, you may laugh out loud, it was funny to me then and it’s funny to me now.) Thomas or Stephen asked me something right about then not knowing I was about to hurl the cinnamon toast I had had for breakfast. All I could respond was “Shut up! Don’t talk to me!!” which will win me no “Mother of the Year” awards but will earn you a mouthful of vinegar at home (if I follow through with remember the punishment). That is how bad I felt in that instant and my next thought was “I’ve gotta ride rides tomorrow???!”.

When Tad came out, I told him, and he immediately diagnosed my condition: vertigo. Verti-freaking-go… He added matter-of-factly that 90% of people will experience it as some point in their lives, this info from a guy he works with who has debilitating bouts of it.

So, there ya go, I totally believe that’s what’s wrong with me. This diagnosis was confirmed many times based on internet research of my symptoms (I’m sure real doctors HATE that!), I have yet to see a REAL doctor or be treated for it, and yeah, I’m still dizzy (but mainly when lying down or getting up). If I
r e s p e c t the vertigo (aka move very slowly), I can minimize the spin.

But to prove how much I love the beach and how quickly I’ve had to “get there” all my life, lookie here: me as a four-year-old bathing beauty, the only time in life chunky legs and a bulging tummy are CUTE. Couldn’t be bothered with the time it took to put on a swim cap…Nooooo, I don’t need no stinkin’ swimming cap…swimmer’s ear be darned**!

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(** I gotta tell ya…Stephen just came and sat down by me while I was checking this post…and he said pitifully, incredulously in a high-pitched little boy voice, “You CUSSED on your blog??” **sigh** don’t think I’ll ever garner any Mother of the Year votes…I changed it for him.)

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