Okay y'all, so I went to the ENT specialist today where he turned around and ruled out BPPV...and any tumors...so that's good. However, the end response was... Here's another script for Meclizine and I have to 'wait it out.' Apparently sometimes these things take time and 'correct themselves' ...however... if I am not balanced in six weeks time, I am to go back for a follow up with additional testing.
The upside to today is: it's nothing serious - just annoying and inconvenient. I have excellent hearing. (yay!) And my blood pressure was 116/68. (yay!)
Also something kinda cool (and random) - When I was a child and went to the ENT monthly, Dr. Abedi ALWAYS had Dum Dum suckers ... and they had them at the office I went to today. I asked Dr. Cross if there was some secret agreement that all ENT's have Dum Dum's. He said it was in the rulebook. So I took a moment to revert back to my childhood and I grabbed a Cream Soda Dum Dum on my way out. It was yummy! :)
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Verti-WHOA!!
I didn't post this yesterday because I wanted my post about LeRoi to be a stand-alone...Monday afternoon, I left work early sick as a DAWG...I had been feeling bad for the past few weeks: feeling nauseous, getting dizzy (even while sitting or worse yet while laying down), my eyes would play weird tricks on me, having that "post concert buzz" in my ears, etc. ... and after Monday afternoon, I realized it was time to go see my doc...So Tuesday morning I went:
Try to say that three times fast...heck, just once...so this is my diagnosis and I have to see an ENT specialist next Thursday to see if I can be 'rebalanced'. The various symptoms began shortly after my ill-fated trip to Busch Gardens, so we're assuming it had something to do with that dang roller coaster. Sigh. I was given an Rx for Meclizine, which'll help with the BPPV (and seems to be helping) until I see Mr. ENT.
*************************
The below I snagged from WebMD.com:
What is benign paroxysmal positional vertigo (BPPV)?
Vertigo is the feeling that you are spinning or the world is spinning around you. Benign paroxysmal positional vertigo is caused by a problem in the inner ear. It usually causes brief vertigo spells that come and go.
What causes BPPV?
Normally, there are little calcium "stones" in the inner ear canals that are moved around by gravity. BPPV can be caused by things like infection or inflammation that stop the stones from moving around like normal. This sends a false message to the brain that affects your balance.
Benign Paroxysmal Positional Vertigo
*************************
The below I snagged from WebMD.com:
What is benign paroxysmal positional vertigo (BPPV)?
Vertigo is the feeling that you are spinning or the world is spinning around you. Benign paroxysmal positional vertigo is caused by a problem in the inner ear. It usually causes brief vertigo spells that come and go.
What causes BPPV?
Normally, there are little calcium "stones" in the inner ear canals that are moved around by gravity. BPPV can be caused by things like infection or inflammation that stop the stones from moving around like normal. This sends a false message to the brain that affects your balance.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
*giggles*
Okay, so yesterday was the day...New Kids Greatest Hits came out on CD. After work, I took a fieldtrip and headed straight to Best Buy. Barely hitting the CD section, an employee approached me and asked if I needed assistance. I told him I was looking for the new releases and he asked me who I was looking for. I didn't even hesitate and proudly stated "New Kids On The Block." He went and got it for me and as he got closer to me, the 13 year old in me began giggling. After checking out it's condition, making sure it was perfect, I went to pay for it. I politely declined a bag (as I knew what was about to happen next). Walking out, I began peeling off the plastic overwrap and I see the employee who helped out (taking a smoke break) and he called out "Enjoy that CD now," to which my reply was "Thanks!"
I get behind the wheel and pop the CD out...flipping through the booklet as the music begins. The cool thing is the CD includes the duet Donnie did with some Asian chick and a duet that Jordan did - believe it or not...a duet I don't even remember. There's also a "2008 Mega Mix" that's "dope."
I get behind the wheel and pop the CD out...flipping through the booklet as the music begins. The cool thing is the CD includes the duet Donnie did with some Asian chick and a duet that Jordan did - believe it or not...a duet I don't even remember. There's also a "2008 Mega Mix" that's "dope."
hee hee hee...September 2 isn't that far away...
Not to mention they will be on
THE TODAY SHOW AGAIN
September 1,
performing their new single called "Single"
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Buies Creek, NC 27506
So it has finally happened...
FOOTBALL has returned to Campbell University after a 50-plus year hiatus...the Camels will have their first game on Saturday, August 30 (1 p.m.) Will you be there? 
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
When Answers Aren't Enough... (Excellent Book, Highly Recommended)
(Note: I am not a book critic and that is not the purpose of this post)I read Matt's words much like taking in a bottle of water...in one long continuous gulp, stopping only once to catch my breath before swallowing each additional mouthful until all that was left...an empty bottle.
I felt almost voyeuristic - getting such an inside look into my friend's personal life; personal experiences. Strange. I knew Baker Falls had died, but I never knew how - somehow that was never conveyed to me - not until Matt "told" me. I hardly even knew Baker, but he seemed laid back...super nice...I remember seeing him and Michelle Hunter sitting on the stone benches outside of Taylor Bott Rogers playing guitar. And if additional memory serves correctly (as this was freshman year: pre-Rose of Sharon days) he was teaching her to play?? I'm sure I would have had to have had some sort of initial conversation with Baker as I know we'd say hello when passing on campus. Then again, Campbell was such a small school that it was easy to say hello a dozen or two times on the way to class or while standing in line at Marshbanks...and never knowing the person - just the face and name that went with it.
I am not a Hokie. I wasn't in (or even near) Blacksburg on April 16. I was several hundred miles away - in Richmond - at work - the Richmond Times-Dispatch. I, like the rest of the country, was on the outside...reading and watching the various media accounts for insight as to how something so crazy could occur. The closest I could get to the inside was a friend whose parents bought and now lived in the house that Matthew Gwaltney once called home. He had visited once after her family had moved in... (and we both know that sooo doesn't count)
In the days, weeks, months after I know countless questions passed in minds and some of those through lips. One of my string of questions (may seem strange): What about Cho's parents? How were they handling the reality that their son and brother was responsible for this senseless act? How would they even begin to respond? How did they feel? When was their last conversation with him and what was said? Was there any signal from him that something was wrong? You kind of have to wonder what was going through his mind - but then again maybe it was already lost and there was nothing there. What do I know? But there's got to be comfort in knowing that we don't have to have all the answers. That is for God and God alone...and Matt's title couldn't be more on point - God is good when life isn't and I'm glad that I was reminded of that as I read Matt's words.
And while I do not recall the last time I saw/talked to Matt, it was nice to spend some time with an 'old' friend. I am looking forward to his next book...
I felt almost voyeuristic - getting such an inside look into my friend's personal life; personal experiences. Strange. I knew Baker Falls had died, but I never knew how - somehow that was never conveyed to me - not until Matt "told" me. I hardly even knew Baker, but he seemed laid back...super nice...I remember seeing him and Michelle Hunter sitting on the stone benches outside of Taylor Bott Rogers playing guitar. And if additional memory serves correctly (as this was freshman year: pre-Rose of Sharon days) he was teaching her to play?? I'm sure I would have had to have had some sort of initial conversation with Baker as I know we'd say hello when passing on campus. Then again, Campbell was such a small school that it was easy to say hello a dozen or two times on the way to class or while standing in line at Marshbanks...and never knowing the person - just the face and name that went with it.
I am not a Hokie. I wasn't in (or even near) Blacksburg on April 16. I was several hundred miles away - in Richmond - at work - the Richmond Times-Dispatch. I, like the rest of the country, was on the outside...reading and watching the various media accounts for insight as to how something so crazy could occur. The closest I could get to the inside was a friend whose parents bought and now lived in the house that Matthew Gwaltney once called home. He had visited once after her family had moved in... (and we both know that sooo doesn't count)
In the days, weeks, months after I know countless questions passed in minds and some of those through lips. One of my string of questions (may seem strange): What about Cho's parents? How were they handling the reality that their son and brother was responsible for this senseless act? How would they even begin to respond? How did they feel? When was their last conversation with him and what was said? Was there any signal from him that something was wrong? You kind of have to wonder what was going through his mind - but then again maybe it was already lost and there was nothing there. What do I know? But there's got to be comfort in knowing that we don't have to have all the answers. That is for God and God alone...and Matt's title couldn't be more on point - God is good when life isn't and I'm glad that I was reminded of that as I read Matt's words.
And while I do not recall the last time I saw/talked to Matt, it was nice to spend some time with an 'old' friend. I am looking forward to his next book...
I would assume Matt wouldn't mind this plug, but for more about him:
When Death Happens
I think the first time I recall being faced with death, I couldn't have been any older than 6. His name was Bill Smith and he was a church friend of my grandmother's. He and his wife, Mildred, lived in the neighborhood across the street from the church I attended as a child. The only thing I really remember about Bill was he loved owls. His collection displayed throughout their home. I remember going over there several times with my grandma. Bill had gone into the hospital for some type of heart surgery and I remember going to visit him once...in my Cheer Bear Halloween costume, which my grandma had cut from a pattern and sewn stitch by stitch...it was the last time I saw Bill. He never came home. He died on the operating table. After his passing, his wife gave me Bill's wooden Russian nesting dolls, which I played with during visits to their home. I still have those dolls to this day. Being so young, I understood that Bill wasn't going to be around anymore and that he was in Heaven.
Another death that hit me (rather hard) was that of my dear friend, Bryson Kcraget. I had known Bryson all throughout high school, having had several classes together. Bryson was a handsome, sweet, country boy who drove a Ford Ranger pickup truck. He was popular and on the wrestling team. I don't recall anyone ever saying anything bad about him. I remember during our sophomore year, passing notes in health class ... I couldn't believe it - here I was a girl who was not a part of the 'in crowd' who liked a boy, who liked her back. We had made plans to go on a date, which would have been my first, over Christmas Break. Bryson was already 16 and had his driver's license. Unfortunately, he got in trouble and was grounded over break and so the date had to be canceled...somehow, we didn't get around to rescheduling that date.
During our junior year of high school, Bryson had been out drinking and got his first underage DUI. I could have been dealing with Bryson's death a lot sooner than I did as this DUI included a serious wreck, where he was thrown from the cab of the truck. It was a good thing he didn't have his seat belt on as the engine came through the truck landing on the benchseat. But with this accident, Bryson had the misfortune of doing enough damage to his arm that he had to have steel pins put in. (There went his scholarship to VMI. He had wanted to be a police officer like his older brother.) He lost his license. That summer, he was homebound and on several occasions, I would go over to visit him. I remember one time I was irritated with some of our fellow class members as I had gone to visit and they were all having a ball in his pool - not even paying any mind to Bryson. Maybe he didn't mind. I didn't ask, but it bothered me. The main thing I remember about his house was the family room. The entire perimeter of the wall nearest to the ceiling was nothing but dear heads.
We remained friends through the end of high school. He signing my last yearbook with:
Sarah,
Not much to say. You are a true friend.
Bryson ended up attending Radford, but only for a short time. Spring Break '96 had arrived. I knew I would be seeing Bryson while I was home. On my first full day home, calling Bryson was on my list of things to do, however, before I could I got a call from my friend and down-the-street neighbor, Dina. She asked if I had talked to Bryson lately. My response was something like "No, but I'm calling him today [to let him know I was home]." And her extremely blunt response was "You can't. He's dead. He killed himself last night." Dina went on to tell the events as they happened...he and his girlfriend, Melissa, had gone out the night before. He was driving intoxicated again and happened upon his second DUI. He was sure his parents would be disappointed in him. Once he was home, he called Melissa, leaving her a message that he loved her and would see her in Heaven. He then went into his back yard, which was nothing but woods, and took a 12 gauge to his head. That was it. James Bryson Kcraget was gone. I can't imagine being unable to locate my child and then find him dead...and in such a gruesome way. I know without a doubt in my heart that Bryson's parents wouldn't have wished this upon their child. For a time after you couldn't help but wonder why this happened...
I attended the visitation night at the funeral home in Colonial Heights. There were a lot of familiar faces. As I stood in line waiting to speak with his family, I practiced what I wanted to say over and over. With having lost my grandmother a few months prior and having had gone through what his family was now going through, I knew I didn't want to say "I'm sorry." I was sorry, but after having heard it so many times myself, it had lost it's meaning. When I arrived to his mother I simply said "Mrs. Kcraget, I can't believe he's gone." Mrs. Kcraget just gathered me in an embrace. Nothing more was said.
I had never been to a funeral before and I knew I didn't want Bryson's to be my first. When everyone was gathering at the cemetery, I instead went to Friendly's for ice cream with my friend, Erica. We talked about Bryson over some vanilla ice cream. A few days later, I cut some daffodils from my grandmother's garden and went to the burial site. I knew roughly where Bryson had been laid to rest as Dina had attended his funeral and told me where he 'was'. I spent some time alone with him, just talking. I had laid the daffodils among the mound of various flowers left for him. I guess other than memories, I wanted something to remember Bryson by, so before I left I took a single perfect long stem red rose. It was dried out and I cut the bud from the stem. It too was perfect. I still have that bud to this day.
I visited Bryson a few times after his burial. But I haven't been to visit in over 10 years. It's not that I don't care about Bryson, but it didn't make any sense to me to go to the cemetery to 'talk to the ground'. It just so happens the cemetery is next to the YMCA where my nephew plays soccer. Sometimes when I drive past it I'll say hello...
Another death that hit me (rather hard) was that of my dear friend, Bryson Kcraget. I had known Bryson all throughout high school, having had several classes together. Bryson was a handsome, sweet, country boy who drove a Ford Ranger pickup truck. He was popular and on the wrestling team. I don't recall anyone ever saying anything bad about him. I remember during our sophomore year, passing notes in health class ... I couldn't believe it - here I was a girl who was not a part of the 'in crowd' who liked a boy, who liked her back. We had made plans to go on a date, which would have been my first, over Christmas Break. Bryson was already 16 and had his driver's license. Unfortunately, he got in trouble and was grounded over break and so the date had to be canceled...somehow, we didn't get around to rescheduling that date.
During our junior year of high school, Bryson had been out drinking and got his first underage DUI. I could have been dealing with Bryson's death a lot sooner than I did as this DUI included a serious wreck, where he was thrown from the cab of the truck. It was a good thing he didn't have his seat belt on as the engine came through the truck landing on the benchseat. But with this accident, Bryson had the misfortune of doing enough damage to his arm that he had to have steel pins put in. (There went his scholarship to VMI. He had wanted to be a police officer like his older brother.) He lost his license. That summer, he was homebound and on several occasions, I would go over to visit him. I remember one time I was irritated with some of our fellow class members as I had gone to visit and they were all having a ball in his pool - not even paying any mind to Bryson. Maybe he didn't mind. I didn't ask, but it bothered me. The main thing I remember about his house was the family room. The entire perimeter of the wall nearest to the ceiling was nothing but dear heads.
We remained friends through the end of high school. He signing my last yearbook with:
Sarah,
Not much to say. You are a true friend.
I know you will always do well in life.
I hope to see you in the future.
Your pal,
Bryson Kcraget
Your pal,
Bryson Kcraget
Bryson ended up attending Radford, but only for a short time. Spring Break '96 had arrived. I knew I would be seeing Bryson while I was home. On my first full day home, calling Bryson was on my list of things to do, however, before I could I got a call from my friend and down-the-street neighbor, Dina. She asked if I had talked to Bryson lately. My response was something like "No, but I'm calling him today [to let him know I was home]." And her extremely blunt response was "You can't. He's dead. He killed himself last night." Dina went on to tell the events as they happened...he and his girlfriend, Melissa, had gone out the night before. He was driving intoxicated again and happened upon his second DUI. He was sure his parents would be disappointed in him. Once he was home, he called Melissa, leaving her a message that he loved her and would see her in Heaven. He then went into his back yard, which was nothing but woods, and took a 12 gauge to his head. That was it. James Bryson Kcraget was gone. I can't imagine being unable to locate my child and then find him dead...and in such a gruesome way. I know without a doubt in my heart that Bryson's parents wouldn't have wished this upon their child. For a time after you couldn't help but wonder why this happened...
I attended the visitation night at the funeral home in Colonial Heights. There were a lot of familiar faces. As I stood in line waiting to speak with his family, I practiced what I wanted to say over and over. With having lost my grandmother a few months prior and having had gone through what his family was now going through, I knew I didn't want to say "I'm sorry." I was sorry, but after having heard it so many times myself, it had lost it's meaning. When I arrived to his mother I simply said "Mrs. Kcraget, I can't believe he's gone." Mrs. Kcraget just gathered me in an embrace. Nothing more was said.
I had never been to a funeral before and I knew I didn't want Bryson's to be my first. When everyone was gathering at the cemetery, I instead went to Friendly's for ice cream with my friend, Erica. We talked about Bryson over some vanilla ice cream. A few days later, I cut some daffodils from my grandmother's garden and went to the burial site. I knew roughly where Bryson had been laid to rest as Dina had attended his funeral and told me where he 'was'. I spent some time alone with him, just talking. I had laid the daffodils among the mound of various flowers left for him. I guess other than memories, I wanted something to remember Bryson by, so before I left I took a single perfect long stem red rose. It was dried out and I cut the bud from the stem. It too was perfect. I still have that bud to this day.
I visited Bryson a few times after his burial. But I haven't been to visit in over 10 years. It's not that I don't care about Bryson, but it didn't make any sense to me to go to the cemetery to 'talk to the ground'. It just so happens the cemetery is next to the YMCA where my nephew plays soccer. Sometimes when I drive past it I'll say hello...
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
My First Visit to Busch Gardens
To make a short story shorter, I received two free passes to Busch Gardens through work. Not sure how I felt about theme parks, I invited Sarah Pate to go with me. I trusted her to encourage me to get over my 'fear of the unknown' of roller coasters. Upon arriving at the park, it was decided that Apollo's Chariot (see photo) would be the first one we rode. During the wait, we talked through my fears and as it came time to get on the ride, I was still anxious, but excited...that is until the first jerk of the coaster as the ride got going. Then all hell broke loose in my mind. I wanted off, but that wasn't an option...I was well aware that the incline we were making led to a massive drop. I kept my eyes closed and took countless deep breaths. That first drop was it....and I was done. And while I barely survived Apollo, I knew I wouldn't be getting on it or any other coaster again. After this, we headed towards Roman Rapids...I thought "Oh, I've done this at Kings Dominion when I was a kid." and I knew I could handle it.....erm, probably should have waited longer...
There is a sign on rides talking about no loose items. In this case, any that fell into the water became property of Busch Gardens. Keep this in mind...Sarah and I shared a tube with two fathers and their young sons...neither boy could have been any more than 8 years old. As we came around the final waterfall and were headed up the incline back to 'home base', a violent queasiness overcame me. No sooner than I said to Sarah, "I think I'm going to throw up." I turn my head and let loose into the water. So now, my vomit is the property of Busch Gardens. And luckily, I don't think the other four passengers realized what had happened.
We thought maybe it would be good to get something on my stomach so we walked from Italy to Germany for a pretzel. Upon first bite, I had to rub the salt off. I barely ate any of the pretzel and was sad to know that our day was going to be cut short. On a scale of 1 to 10 of feeling bad, I felt 11 or 12. I felt like I had ruined Sarah's day, but she wasn't hearing any of that! It couldn't be helped. Maybe I should have realized that by getting car sick, surely I would get sick from a roller coaster, but I didn't go with the obvious...d'oh!
We left the park and I got home shortly before 5 p.m. I slept from then until 12.30 p.m. Sunday afternoon and my insides were still out of whack. My plan was to conquer a fear and I did...it just so happened that it conquered me instead.
There is a sign on rides talking about no loose items. In this case, any that fell into the water became property of Busch Gardens. Keep this in mind...Sarah and I shared a tube with two fathers and their young sons...neither boy could have been any more than 8 years old. As we came around the final waterfall and were headed up the incline back to 'home base', a violent queasiness overcame me. No sooner than I said to Sarah, "I think I'm going to throw up." I turn my head and let loose into the water. So now, my vomit is the property of Busch Gardens. And luckily, I don't think the other four passengers realized what had happened.
We thought maybe it would be good to get something on my stomach so we walked from Italy to Germany for a pretzel. Upon first bite, I had to rub the salt off. I barely ate any of the pretzel and was sad to know that our day was going to be cut short. On a scale of 1 to 10 of feeling bad, I felt 11 or 12. I felt like I had ruined Sarah's day, but she wasn't hearing any of that! It couldn't be helped. Maybe I should have realized that by getting car sick, surely I would get sick from a roller coaster, but I didn't go with the obvious...d'oh!
We left the park and I got home shortly before 5 p.m. I slept from then until 12.30 p.m. Sunday afternoon and my insides were still out of whack. My plan was to conquer a fear and I did...it just so happened that it conquered me instead.
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