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The Hellish Episodes of My Meniere’s Disease Journey
I lay on the piss-soaked floor for hours, the cold tiles oddly refreshing on my temple. And that’s just one of many episodes.
Meniere’s disease swept into my life shortly after moving to Dubai in 2004.
The only suspect I have was the mandatory hepatitis B vax which I was given twice (2x2) because they lost my paperwork and insisted having twice the dose wasn’t a problem. That’s not a political statement of any kind. Rare side effects can include hearing loss and tinnitus. I’ve included some papers, mainly case studies for you at the end (1,2,3,4,5). I mention it here in case anyone else had a similar start to their Meniere’s Disease (MD) journey, not to create division. Maybe it had nothing whatsoever to do with it. After about 6 months the dizziness and vertigo stopped and I was left with hearing loss and tinnitus on my right side. I returned to the UK and had all but forgotten about it until it came back with a crunch.
It was 2012 and I was hit as if by an invisible car.
I knew what it was within a millisecond, there’s nothing quite like it. I was parked in a car at the time and had to open the door to throw up on the pavement. A few people came over, I suspect they thought I was drunk, but knew the instant they saw my spectral shade that it was something else entirely. My housemate rescued me, sunlight reflecting from his armour, at least in my mind. Thanks, Nick.
After that things got much worse.
I’ve got a thousand horror stories, but I’ll give you three. The three that float into my memory the most. An early attack pinned me onto a shin-high coffee table. There I was for hours, the Café Nero staff and clientele not interested in enquiring why I hadn’t moved a muscle for two hours. Essentially in a stress position, my limbs began to go numb.
But to move would be to vomit and I couldn’t face that.
I had managed to call an ambulance and groan the words Meniere’s disease. Of course, this meant they took their time (rightfully, I suppose). Eventually, as their combat boots descended the stairs under which my poor wooden stretcher held me, my head cleared enough allowing me to…
