Wobbly blogger, wobbly blog.

As regular readers will be aware, the last few days have not been normal, in the world of beetleypete.
Since starting to feel unwell last weekend, I am still experiencing bouts of dizziness, having trouble sleeping, and I am unable to drive. Even trying to bend down to stroke Ollie brings on a wave of weirdness that is hard to describe. The tablets prescribed by the doctor only stave this off for short periods, and even knowing what is causing the problem only helps a little. I am not panicking any more at least, that’s something to be thankful for.

When you only feel right standing bolt upright, or sitting in a chair without turning too quickly, all sorts of limitations start to intrude on your daily routine. For one thing, you begin to realise just how routine many aspects of your life are; carried out without thought, taken for granted. Turning over in bed, bending forward to put your socks on, or to put a lead around a dog’s neck. When such things have to be thought about, planned in advance, and tackled as if they are something best avoided, your perception of life changes very quickly. From one day when all is well, to the next when it isn’t quite right, you begin to re-think every action and movement. Not much fun, I can tell you.

And as I suffer in my own small way, so does the blog. Sitting in my excellent office chair for a few hours is bearable, if not preferable, to the alternative of lying down trying not to feel strange. But ideas are fuzzy, and too much time at the computer adds to the feeling of discombobulation that hovers over my waking hours, and many of my sleeping ones too. My usual posting routine had gone, along with all the other routines that were second nature. Plans for posts, notes in draft, all still await development. A good idea for a fiction story just disappeared without trace yesterday, and I cannot recall it, try as I might.

It has only been a few days, but feels like weeks. I can only hope that this starts to get better soon, and the medication begins to stabilise these sensations. If not, then this small blog will surely deteriorate too, along with the blogger. At least I got to use the word ‘discombobulation’ in a post…


58 thoughts on “Wobbly blogger, wobbly blog.

  1. I hope you’re feeling better and it goes back to normal soon, but take it easy. You’re right we don’t realised how much we take certain things for granted until we can’t do them as we used to any longer… Thinking of you.


  2. Frightening and debilitating – and seemingly getting more common. I know at least three other people who’ve suffered the same symptoms following a virus recently. Like everyone else, I am very sorry and send best wishes. I think, even in this condition, you are less discombobulated than the rest of a mad, mad world


    1. Thanks, Pippa. I hope that your own situation has improved somewhat. My condition will undoubtedly become bearable with medication and treatment, but there are no pills for your difficulties.
      Thinking of you both. Pete. x


  3. Hi Pete

    I missed your first post because I am currently in bed with some sort of virus. However, I am so sorry to hear that you are suffering. Is this the one you mean?


    If so, it sounds as if there may be light at the end of the tunnel, although it could be a little while before you catch sight of it. I know a lady who had the same and it troubled her for quite a little while, but did right itself eventually. I think she had the particle repositioning maneuvre at least once and it helped considerably.

    Meanwhile, do take care. Do *not* try to walk around in the dark, for instance. Apparently, we need two out of eyes, inner ears and feeling in the feet in order to stand upright successfully. So if your inner ears aren’t functioning as they should, you need to give your eyes the best chance you can if you don’t want to fall. Not that this helps much if the world appears to be spinning around anyway, but apparently the brain is capable of working these things out, given a little time. My brother has Meniere’s (as did my grandmother and great grandmother), so I know something of what is involved.

    My brother has spoken of finding reading and writing difficult following an attack – mostly because things are not staying properly still.If this is the case, the effort involved in trying to make sense of the world is bound to take its toll on the old brain cells (or so it seems to me), adding to the feeling of discombobulation. I’ve learned a bit about fatigue over the past several years and I know TV/film will just about finish off my brain on a bad day because it all just moves too fast. And then there is the anxiety that goes along with first becoming ill… ‘How long is this going to last?’ ‘What about…?’ etc. etc… which the brain also has to ‘manage’.

    Easy to describe. Horrible to have to deal with. And, really, the only sensible advice is the most frustrating of all: ‘This is how it is for the moment. Just do what you can do and leave the rest. The blog will still be here when you feel better… as will your faithful followers, delighted to see you back πŸ™‚ ‘

    Blessings, Pete. I hope you feel better soon.


    1. Thanks very much for your support, Ros, and for all the information too. The first page of your link exactly describes both the symptoms, and the causes diagnosed by my GP. I am still experiencing all of this, but beginning to cope better, by telling myself what it is, so not getting in such a panic.
      The biggest issue is being unable to drive. I have been stuck in Beetley for a week now, dependent on others to drive me around. As you know the area, you are well-aware how limiting this can be.
      Very best wishes, Pete.


        1. Thanks, Pete. My health has been pretty poor since Christmas, so I am definitely looking forward to a better March πŸ™‚

          I can imagine the frustration with not being able to drive in your neck of the woods. Being dependent on others to get you to the places you need to is not fun. Being dependent at all is not fun – as I know only too well. So don’t be surprised if you find yourself getting ratty with people who really don’t deserve it. It’s all part of the frustration. One of the biggest challenges of being ill is allowing other people to do the things for you that you no longer can… I mean, this was your job, for goodness’ sake… driving sick people around!! But… well… it’s because we get sick that we need drivers πŸ˜‰


  4. Apparently, Libertas, the Roman goddess who immigrated to the States by way of France, only feels right “standing bolt upright.” She’s been standing in New York Harbor for 130 years, and no one has ever seen her bend over. In fact, she’s so determinedly rigid that most people are under the impression she’s merely a statue. It’s common knowledge that “Miss Liberty” suffers from VERDIGRIS, a condition with which she’s been afflicted since the tender age of 20. The cause of her VERDIGRIS is not crystals, but rather copper. Sadly, it’s not just in her ears. It’s in every centimeter of her body! She’s also a blogger, by the way. But whereas your blog is called beetleypete, her blog is called beatthepatina (she’s especially fond of quoting Emma Lazarus). it’s true that as she looks around at the huddled masses, she cannot hide the fact that she’s green with envy. But her mind is never fuzzy! And she never wobbles! So take heart, Pete. If she can handle VERDIGRIS, you can handle it, too!


  5. Sounds rotten, but at least you had an excuse to use discombobulated. I love that word. I’m feeling a bit like that at the moment. So many things to sort out after months of frustration of not being able to do anything practical. Now I start on one thing, switch to another and then hours later remember the washing in the machine! Hope your symptoms disappear as quickly as they arrived.


  6. Sorry Pete, I am behind in my blog reading. Really sorry you’re feeling unwell. It sounds a disconcerting and frustrating experience. Is it vertigo? I have episodes of it – a pesky thing – feeling I’m moving when I’m not, room spinning, balance issues and nausea. I will catch up with your blog. Sending you best wishes in the meantime. Take care. Hope you soon see improvement. x


    1. Thanks as always for your kind thoughts. It has been diagnosed as vertigo, and pretty much as you experience yourself. The tablets are making it bearable though, and it might just go away in time. (Hopefully)
      Best wishes, Pete.


  7. Pete: I’m sorry about the vertigo that you are enduring, it can’t be pleasant at all – I do hope that it desists soon and you get back to normal as quick as you like. Coincidentally, I wrote a kind of prophylactic narrative to Guy’s yesterday complaining about transport arrangements and used that very word – I could have used ‘confused’ but it’s not as much fun is it? Get well soon and blog on when you get better. Brian.


    1. Thanks, Brian. It is nothing at all, compared to your ailments, both recent and historical.
      I am pleased that you liked the word, and hope to hear that you are on the way to a full recovery soon.
      Love as ever, Pete and Julie. X


  8. Hoping you feel better soon Pete. My understanding is that the inner ear is the area responsible for balance issues and it makes sense that your vertigo is a left over from a bad cold. Meanwhile the biggest danger from what you are feeling is FALLING. So be careful and take it real sow. Thinking of you and sending the best. Frank


  9. Thanks for the update Pete, I’m sorry to hear you’re still a little wobbly 😦 wise words indeed about how even the little things can be difficult when you’re not feeling yourself.

    Don’t worry about your blog (this post was still up to your usual standard anyway) we’ll all be waiting for you when the horrid feeling passes 😦 which hopefully won’t be long.



        1. No, he didn’t. Not many tests done at all yet. He thinks it is the crystals in the inner ear, caused by the recent heavy cold. If it doesn’t get better, then he will start trying other things.
          Sorry to hear that you have the ‘wobbles’ too. It’s not a nice thing to live with. x

          Liked by 1 person

        1. Apparently, fear of heights is called ‘Acrophobia.’ Vertigo-like symptoms are something that can be a by-product of this, in some cases. I’m not being a smarty-pants, as this was something I had to be told myself. I had always called a fear of heights Vertigo until then.
          (So Hitchcock wasn’t quite right…)
          Best wishes, Pete.

          Liked by 1 person

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