Read on Twitter
Hehe. Because it's a light day and a colleague asked me about my illness, I've been reading about what I had and what I'm still recovering from. Acute Vestibular Neuritis.
It's a super rare viral infection. 3.5 to a million, I think. And viral, yes.
Reading about it is making me shit my pants. To think that it actually happened a few months ago is like whaaaaa...
The symptoms are prolonged continuous vertigo mostly. In evaluating a patient with an acute vestibular syndrome, it is important not to miss a central cause, such as a brainstem or cerebellar stroke or hemorrhage, which could be life-threatening.
Definitive central signs are not always present. Thus, any patient thought to have vestibular neuritis who has significant vascular risk factors should be evaluated for a possible stroke.
Most patients recover well from vestibular neuritis, even without treatment. Nonetheless, studies suggest that a course of oral steroids accelerates the recovery of vestibular function; whether steroids influence long-term outcome is less certain.
Thus, until more data become available, it is reasonable to treat otherwise healthy individuals who present within 3 days of onset and to withhold steroids from those who are at higher risk of complications.
Antiemetics and vestibular suppressants are useful acutely but should be withdrawn as soon as possible (preferably after the first several days) because their prolonged use may impede the process of central vestibular compensation.
Early resumption of normal activity should be encouraged, to promote compensation. Directed vestibular rehabilitation therapy can further promote this process.
Layman language, my entire nervous system was fucked. There was a time I couldn't see or walk.
I couldn't write. I still barely can.
I sounded like a 3-year-old at one point. Then like a 10-year-old. More recently, like my normal self.
Imagine growing up all again in a span of a year? The older you are, logically, the tougher it gets.
Your first few months real time, is just the first few years of your life. The next few months is you growing up, of sorts. And then it seems like you just are't getting better. Heh.
Of course, I'm super grateful to my family and the folks at work who treated me more or less normally and helped me resume normal activity.
But a year of recovery is tough.
And though this seems relatively physically painless, it takes a crazy emotional toll on you.
It still does.
Even though I'm 90-95% better now. There's this constant fear of not being "normal" again.
I totally get being discriminated against because you're not physically or mentally normal. It's wrong to fault those who treat you that way too. They have their reasons. I guess.
But for every person who treats you wrong, I guess there's one person who treats you right. And even if there's more bad guys (than the good ones) out there, you're still alive. And with a chance of a 100% recovery.
Of course, I'm always comparing me to my old, "normal" self. And that's kind of the end goal. But to think of folk who can't get better or who have lived with a certain debilitating condition all life long. Shudder.
My biggest question ever since February or so is, why must someone who is ill be understanding of one's own illness AND of how he is treated a certain way (strangers, care givers, whatever)?
Fin. I guess. Off home to eat mutton curry for lunch. 
Read this today. And laughed like anything. And basically cursed my luck. https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2018/05/180524174559.htm
This day last year I was hospitalized. Am I normal again? No. Am I *almost* normal again? Yes. Does it hurt (emotionally) like a bitch? Fucking yes.
Heh. Small personal joys. If they count at all at a moment when the country is in turmoil. I've gotten a sore throat and a common cold. Because of the Hyderabad winter (c'mon, that's a thing okay!). After a whole year.
My body is inching to normalcy. Last leg and a few more weeks to go, I hope.
Heh. I had to take a cab for some stuff today. And I saw the driver rate me a 5. I'm generally nice, cab or no cab, until I'm stressed or you piss me off or some such. But it got me thinking...
Are cab fellows morally bound to give passengers 4s and 5s lest we rate them badly and screw their rating up?
I know people (passengers) who care a fuck ton about their cab rating and also choose not to take a cab if the driver has less than a 4.5 average rating. Do you?
I remember the cab ride I took a week before I was hospitalized. I couldn't find a rickshaw, had a mad headache, was running late for my meds appointment for said headache and I had hailed a cab.
I was quite frustrated and upset. And the driver had given me a 4. Had he known now that I was hospitalized a week later for that very fucking headache and it's taking me fucking forever to get better, would he feel any remorse.
It also reminds me of this fuckall doctor who refused to treat me, saying I was not his patient. My husband had argued with him then. And we know he lives in the neighbouring building.
Would he feel any fucking sense of guilt as a medical professional? I don't think him denying me treatment led to the neuritis but it could've been diagnosed better and sooner, yeah?
All that said, I guess I still need to take cabs. I hate the Pune Bombay expressway. I'm glad we changed hospitals and doctors then. And I'm happy I'm almost normal again. A few more weeks for me, bit what is a few weeks when you've had a shitty year. Heh.
but*
(also, reminded of that scene in Madagascar, "...but Maurice, what is a bite on the butt among friends..."
(also, reminded of that scene in Madagascar, "...but Maurice, what is a bite on the butt among friends..."
More heh. My bad.
Therefore joke is lost. As is all that serious talk I was attempting to do. Okaybye.
Gotta love how most people (barring only my mother) assume thatâs its only a few fucking weeks. Fuckers, be me or stfu.
Also, rode a scooty after a good, long time yesterday. I shat my pants those first couple of minutes. But I think I can manage driving my dad's car now. Before I head back to Hyderabad. Hehe. Small victories. Gloat maxxxxx.
Wow. Every other day I'm surprised at how fucking inconsiderate normal fucking human beings can be.
Hehe. Handwriting is so shitty (and I've scribbled audit on my desk so I don't forget) and there's so much on my mind (including two baby nephews, one in Seattle, one in Pune, both named Advait), that brain just read Advit. And a mild giggle happened. Okaybye.
Hehe. Gotta love how everyone just seems to enjoy telling me "shaanti raakh" or "adjust" or "get a grip."
You know, I listened to someone a few weeks ago and they kept saying how to sympathize and to empathize are two different things. And that's one of those other things that's going to stay with me a long, long while.
What is the procedure to put an SMS about a kidney stone (for example) from a hospital (where you have been a patient) on DND?
I get that they're doing it as a business + out of good intent. But what are the odds someone gets one sickness after the next (I totally get a cancer relapse, but stones?)?
Plus, what are the odds people enjoy being hospitalized?
As in, put the hospital on DND, perhaps. Not the stone. Or the content of the SMS.
I don't know about others, but if I need to get treated and if it's urgent, I might do my usual routine of finding a doctor to treat my symptoms. Rather than keeping one SMS and one link to an appointment (not even a number) in my memory.
Came here to rant about neurologist SMSes that I get. Saw it's the very last thing I was ranting about on this thread two months ago. The stupidity of the business aspect of it pisses me off. Why the fuck would I want to get neuritis again?!
