Rotten, lousy calcium deposits

I’ve pretty much gotten over my recent bout with oral cancer and things were going pretty well. I guess they were going so well that my body couldn’t stand it.

Tuesday night last week, I began getting very dizzy and soon began to vomit. (I can’t think of a better way to put it.) Next, I completely lost my balance and fell to the floor. My darling Marcie called 911. We live about one mile from a local firehouse, so within minutes we had a bunch of paramedics and an ambulance on scene, not to mention a bunch of neighbors. The paramedics decided I needed a hospital, so off we went in the ambulance, with an IV running into my arm. The emergency room doctors decided I needed to stay overnight; the next day the medical team decided I needed to stay another night and I spent the day being xrayed, CAT scanned, bled dry, etc., etc. In the end, they decided I needed another day in the hospital and a neurologist joined the team. He decided I needed an MRI done on my head because he suspected a brain-stem stroke, which I didn’t know existed. The stroke was ruled out, based on the MRI and an infection was ruled out, based on the blood work. The neurologist then decided that a calcium build up had come adrift in my inner ear and after some discussion, the other doctors agreed. I was given a prescription for some anti-dizzy medicine and some anti-nausea medicine and discharged.

Sometime today I have to call the hospital and make an appointment with a physical therapist because there is apparently some sort of head/neck adjustment which results in the loose calcium being neutralized—I don’t understand any of that; it sounds like chiropractic to me.

So, within five weeks I’ve been hospitalized twice—the dizzy spell kept me in the hospital far longer than the oral cancer. And, on September 1, I have an appointment with a dermatologist to have two more skin cancers sliced and diced.

If these are the golden years, the gold is nothing more than a thin veneer.