On the fence

Lord knows I'm not on the fence about anything. Maybe I should have titled this about the fence.

As I took my morning walk today (I still go out weather permitting I only dress warmer) I noticed not one, not two, but three new fences. Okay Marty, what's your point? My point is they were all built with the slats going sideways, right to left, rather than up and down. Nothing wrong with that of course. But it looked on, not one , not two, but on all three, supremely odd.

I think part of it was that it was honestly scrambling my vertigo. I still have trouble with quick movements, and there were gaps enough in all three fences (perhaps three quarters of an inch between boards) so that if a car passed by its headlights would ripple along all those horizontal boards. I honestly felt dizziness coming on, so much so that I had to avert my eyes on passing each barricade. It's been several months since I've had a serious attack, but I became afraid I'd bring one on.

And these fences do look weird. I suppose there's a reason for them; artistic licence among fence constructors maybe. But you're messing with my reality man. Stop it.

This curling thing

Well, I've gone and done it. I'm curling in a league again this year after having sat out last season. Oh, I did play a grand total of 7 games last year. But now I'm back in with both feet, at least for this season.

I wasn't going to play but I got an an offer I couldn't refuse. A good curling friend of mine, I'll call him Cloyce just to give him a name, asked if I would throw vice rocks for him this year. As we curl well together and as he's an ok guy, I was happy to oblige.

Our first game Tuesday wasn't my best, but at least I didn't fall on my keister. I wasn't sore Wednesday morning either. And old Cloyce made three very good shots for points. I'm sure our sweepers and my highly intelligent and accurate sweep calls helped.

I'm looking forward to more curling now. I am still worried about my vertigo or whatever it is I have which at times gives me balance problems. But as my balance has always been in question I think I'll be okay.

It is nice to be playing again. This curling thing, it gets in your blood.

Reflections on the 2018 Detroit Curling Club Men's International Bonspiel

It was a good weekend. No, check that: it was a great weekend. I curled for only the second time this season. The boys played well in front of me and we won the C Event in this past weekend's DCC Men's curling tournament. I don't think I faced a tough shot with any of my stones, so credit them with the bronze medal. And we had to win our last three games to win the C, so it was no easy ride.

I saw many friends whom I had not seem this curling season, both at the Detroit club where the bonspiel was held and from the Roseland Curling Club in Windsor, Ontario which I've curled out of for about 25 years now, and from several other area clubs. Many of then know I haven't curled much due to my vertigo or whatever the hell it actually is I'm dealing with, and their friendship and encouragement was profound and gratefully acknowledged. Walking up to accept the trophy, I heard several say 'Way to go, Marty' or offer other such encouragement. For a couple seconds there I thought I'd get emotional. We can't have that.

My team and I have great chemistry. We chatter and joke a lot when we're playing well. It either keeps us loose or is a symptom that we are loose, and when we're loose we're a very good local team. The only really bad end I played all weekend was the 8th end of our second Saturday game, when I let myself get knotted up over making my shots. I missed them as a result, so Sunday we made it a point to stay loose. I just hope it didn't bother the other teams. You want to win, but not like that.

Will I ever curl again? Probably. Will I curl again this year? I don't know, but I kind of doubt it. I'm still seeing doctors, and about every two or three weeks I have severe dizzy spells which come on so suddenly I can't seem to anticipate them, and are debilitating enough that I can't effectively function for four to six hours. It's scary and a major concern but the MDs can't find an explanation. I don't want to hurt me or anyone else while on the ice. I had issues several times rising up out of my delivery and while squatting down in the house to call the line on a shot. My third, Nick, was even nosing me out of the way so that he could sweep a stone rather than me, just to help avoid an attack. That sort of consideration shows me that my curling friends have my back. It was even shown through facebook and messenger as the weekend went on. It's why I love 'em.

I'm not ready to say I'm back. And I don't want to make a health decision too quickly based on euphoria. Yet for one weekend anyway, all was right with the world.

This is sympathy?

As many of you know I'm not curling this year. I'm afraid my vertigo might be a problem while playing.

I was talking about this to my son Frank a few days ago. "I'm afraid I could fall and hurt myself, or hurt someone else while I'm out on the ice," I lamented.

"Yeah. Or you could burn a rock!" he remarked, a little too enthusiastic on the point. Or perhaps too critical, eh?

You cannot touch a curling stone in motion. That's called 'burning' the rock, and is illegal. If I were to become dizzy and fall, touching the rock at all, it would violate the rules. Still, can I live with such sympathy?

Fun with Benign Paroxysmal Positional Vertigo

After weeks of testing and visits to the doctor, I have been told that I have Benign Paroxysmal Positional Vertigo. That's a fancy way of saying that when I lay down on my left side, the room spins. Being a conservative, I kind of like all the obvious jokes that that invites.

Anyway, I did a string of exercises in his office yesterday, was given a new prescription, a list of exercises I can do at home, and the instruction to keep my head and shoulders aligned for the next few days. That means that I should not swivel or turn my head towards the object of my attention, but rather turn my whole upper body when called upon or as necessary.

This has already produced what I suppose should be expected reactions. Whether turning to speak with a customer, or trying to get a look at oncoming traffic when driving, even when just walking down the street, I have experienced a whole new range of looks. The incredulous looks are clearly questioning my behavior; I have gotten many what-is-your-major-malfunction return stares.

I want to yell, "I'm not a creep!" or, "I'm not trying to be creepy!" I'm just following doctor's orders as best I can. I don't intend for it to creep you out. It does lead one to wonder if all this will in fact work, or is just a way for doctors to have fun at their patients' expense.

I honestly don't believe that last part to be the case of course. But I really, really hope this is over in the next two to three days, as my doctor tells me is the norm. I'm really sure that anyone who sees me will hope so too.

Vertigo ain't fun

There are things we don't appreciate (if appreciate is the right word for some things) until we experience them. I always thought pneumonia was nothing but a particularly bad cold...until I contracted it. Believe me, it's much more than that. I likewise never thought of exactly how bad dizziness could be. Then I developed vertigo, and I have a definite respect (if that is the right word for such as thing) for it.

Having a room spin and blur for several seconds when you lay down or sit up is perhaps the worst non-physically painful sensations I've encountered. It's a feeling of total helplessness. Everything spins, everything blurs, and then you come out of it slowly and awkwardly. Your head and/or body even wobble. You lay there and just think, 'Oh my'. I've probably dealt with it before, but never sober. You do not forget it.

The doctor told me to get up and lie down slowly. But I can't seem to do either slowly enough. Oh, it's getting better, now that I'm taking an antibiotic (the cause of my vertigo is an inner ear infection). But still, it's kinda traumatic when the spinning happens. And it startles me occasionally when I, say, take a step back and feel as though I'm going to keep falling backwards whenever I feel it coming on. It isn't fun.

They famously say that don't appreciate someone until you walk a mile in their shoes. I didn't fully appreciate dizziness or a loss of balance before the last few days. I wouldn't wish it on anyone.