Vertigo. That’s the room spinning around.

More than a year ago, my mom fell from dizziness after working at the hospital. My sister, the only family member immediately available, rushed over to find her lying on a stretcher in hall of the ER. Besides the fact of heavily impacted county hospitals, I was troubled by the vertigo. The loss of balance. How is it possible to suddenly drift from a healthy perspective where small things—voices, thinking, breathing, swallowing can be so troublesome?

Where suddenly the world would never stop spinning round and round?

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Last week, I deliberately took my lunch break, running an errand, picking up a small meal at a newly spotted Street Food Dojo on Market Street, then a nice delicious cold milk tea on Ovo on 2nd Street. Work stress was getting to me as I was managing conversations and demands. Two hours later, I was preparing a posterboard and rapidly printing color pages out. As I heard the printer finish its last page, I got up to retrieve it. Then suddenly I felt strange. Consciously, I knew that the world was not moving. But it was as if I had lost my balance and was falling, like I had fell off my bike. I put up my arms in front of me on impulse and yet…it didn’t feel better.

So I continued working, hoping the feeling would go away. Yet when I sat down and tried to look at my bright 13 inch macbook pro screen, I felt sick. I was having an intense discussion (read: disagreement on a goal), yet my mind was not there and I could not effectively give a coherent answer. I was being more passive. I walked around, trying to “lie down” on the large armchairs in the lobby. Yet to no avail. It felt like nausea, but my balance was off for the first time.

I texted Chris and he was immediately concerned. Yes, most importantly about my well-being an “tummie” but then also very concerned that I was not used to the taste of vomit.

And then my lunch was no more. I decided to leave early and rode my bike back to my place—25 minutes of zig-zagging through traffic, pedestrians, and other cyclists. Oddly enough, I felt completely fine on the bike considering that my balance felt off. Then I laid down on my bed. And that’s when the ceiling started spinning.

I sat up and called my mom who recommended a drug. Chris obtained it and suddenly, I was fine.

But now a week later, the only memory I have so distinctly right now is the taste of my own vomit. Ugh.

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