Fall 2010 was a very stressful time
for me. As a result of slowly evolving events that were completely out
of my
control, I was losing sleep, worrying constantly, and feeling
distracted at
work and frequently breaking into tears. The events unfolding were so
upsetting
that I couldn’t stop thinking about them. I had never been
through anything
quite so upsetting and stressful before last fall.
About that time, my mother-in-law
invited me and my husband for a Mexican Riviera cruise to celebrate her
70th
birthday with the immediate family. Although a cruise isn’t our
ideal vacation,
this one couldn’t have come at a better time: my husband and I
desperately needed
a break. So we took days off work and flew from Seattle to L.A. for our
7-day
Thanksgiving cruise. On the ship, we didn’t talk about things at
home at all and
it was a great relief. We rested for the first few days, dining with
family and
enjoying the sun and the ship’s entertainment. In the second half
of the trip,
we ventured into Puerto Vallarta, Mazatlan, and Cabo, where we kayaked
and
snorkeled. At the end of the cruise, we flew back to Seattle. All in
all, I was
surprised at how much I enjoyed the whole thing. It was an easy,
relaxing way
to spend time with family. My mother-in-law had a great birthday event.
Upon our return, my husband and I both
felt the rocking of the boat. I recall the unsettling feeling of the
shifting
ground as I dragged myself over to the grocery store the day after we
returned.
A few days later, my rocking continued, while my husband’s
abated. I felt the
giant sway of the ship along with an even more unsettling, bobbing
sensation, as
if I were on a raft in very choppy water. I was walking on a jello
floor. I
also started to notice the strangest thing: gravity was pushing me into
the
earth with such force that my feet hurt, and I couldn’t use a
pencil without
breaking the lead. My head felt as if some force were trying to twist
it right
off my neck. Mercifully, early on I was mostly still at bedtime, so I
sought
sleep as a break from the constant movement. (Later, my symptoms
shifted, and
I now feel more rocking at night, especially if I am tired.) My husband
assured
me this would go away. He didn’t believe that my rocking would go
on as long as
it had in some of the most worrisome stories I was reading on the
internet.
I called my doctor after about a week
of symptoms. She offered a motion sickness patch, which I declined
because I
had already tried Meclizine. I also googled “dizziness after a
cruise” and
discovered the MdDS foundation, Dr. Hain’s web site, and Dr.
Cha’s article.
Armed with more research oriented article, I returned to my doctor. She
did a
few simple tests, looked inside my ears and eyes. Confident that I
wasn’t suffering
from anything else, my doctor agreed that I had Mal de Debarquement
Syndrome. I
also saw an ENT who confirmed my doctor’s diagnosis.
My doctor suggested physical therapy,
so I went for one appointment with a very sympathetic therapist who
offered
balance exercises and suggested meditation. I followed her advice but I
didn’t
see much difference, so I gave up after a couple of weeks. The ENT
didn’t suggest
any treatment. In desperation, I begged my doctor to try a SSRI, which
she
prescribed and I took for 3 months. I’ve recently decided to stop
this drug
because I don’t see any real effect. So far, the best treatment
has been rest,
exercise, hydration, low stress, and avoiding sugar and caffeine. And
time.
In the beginning, MdDS put a halt to
almost everything in my life. I have kept working all along, but I
stopped all
other activities to sleep as much as possible, heading to bed after
dinner
every night. At first, work was very difficult because of the severe
fatigue caused
by the constant distraction of rocking. The most difficult aspect of
work was
starting anything new, which was a problem because my job is often
project
oriented. I was also having trouble with short-term memory and
focusing. Did I
complete that task or not? Did I send the email? Where did I put that
file? I
spent a lot of extra time checking and re-checking my own work. The
gravity
sensation made it very difficult to write or type, and I started making
a lot
of dyslexic mistakes that I’d never made before.
I told my boss about my condition so
she would understand any change in my performance. After the shock of
my
announcement was over, she was supportive, but it took some time to get
her and
my immediate colleagues to understand, especially since they
can’t see anything
wrong with me. I felt awful bringing it up because I have colleagues
battling worse
health issues.
Overall, I’ve cut back on a lot of
social activities, and I’m very careful about my fatigue and
stress levels. As
my symptoms recede, I’m beginning to reintroduce some of my
favorite
past-times, knitting, cooking and gardening among them and that is a
great
relief. I’m looking forward to this year’s hiking season;
getting out in the
woods for exercise will feed my body and mind. I love to travel, but
I’m
hesitant to take any long plane rides. We have nothing planned for the
moment,
and I worry that travel may the major casualty of this condition for me.
This condition was
nearly unbearable at first:
I couldn’t imagine living on with it for any amount of time. However, after 6 months, I’ve made my
peace.
I feel very lucky that my symptoms have never approached what some have
suffered. In fact, they have improved over time, and I now know that a
bad day
here and there doesn’t mean it is all coming back. I track my
symptoms on a
calendar so I can see the trends and I now feel optimistic that I
won’t have
this forever. The community that has grown up around MdDS is incredibly
supportive,
and I am thankful for it.
The less focus I put on MdDS, the more
I can get back to my regular life. It is difficult to explain MdDS to
family, friends
and colleagues, and I’ve reduced my talk about it to a minimum.
People mean
well, but I find uninformed treatment suggestions difficult to field.
Strangely,
I’ve become so accustomed to the constant sway, that when my
symptoms are low, along
with enormous relief, I almost feel something essential is missing. I
know that
is odd considering the mild torture that MdDS can be, but somehow,
I’ve
integrated it into my sense of normal and there it is. Still, I would
never
wish this on anyone and I have to bite my tongue when I hear people
talking
about going on a cruise, something I’ll never ever do again.
Lynn Kanne, June 2011
Academic Librarian
MdDS since November 2010
7-day Mexican Riviera cruise
June,
2011
