It happened again.
It’s happening again.
Folding towels, that had waited on the sofa all day, one minute — talking with my daughter — the next, I’m meeting the floor.
We don’t panic over falls, not anymore. The panic does start to creep in as I register the slow-motion of movement immediately after. So not the type of fall one just gets back up from. I need a minute, I’m disoriented.
My daughter is asking if I’m hurt…As my chest and stomach contract, panic rises, I’m aware of trying to answer — instead of hearing myself tell her I’m fine — a weird mix of laughter and crying ensues.
It’s happening again, I tell myself.
I can’t speak.
Her eyes are searching mine. Understanding, when I touch my throat, talking is difficult.
We’re accustomed to this, not so much as the falls, but it’s not the first time it’s happened. We know sleep has helped previously. I climb onto the sofa, her little hand supporting me as my limbs move like lead in quicksand.
It’s now two hours later.
The nap, this time, has not reset me.
Of course, I feel like I should panic. I am. I do.
The constant ringing in my ears, amplified. The weird zzzzt, zapping — like wires connecting — reminds me of the game, operation. It’s more of a sensation I think, than a sound.
Iv written out text for the kids, explaining I’m ok — I just need to rest quietly — allowing them the safety of not worrying.
Tomorrow I will email my neurologist. The estimated wait time for brain and spine MRI, was 9-12 Months back when I was referred, in January.
Tonight I allow myself to not try to force words.
FND symptoms tend to go into overdrive the more you try to fight them.
It’s a losing battle.
Instead I’m learning to surrender, to what is my neurological complexity.
Headphones. Bilateral beats. Ease the noise. Rest and Reset.
