Wash (Not Wash).
My washing
machine decided to die mid-spin yesterday, which is ironic, as my vertigo’s
currently so bad I may as well have my head stuck inside it.
(If it was still working, but had no water in it; oh, you know what I mean.)
To be fair, it
had a good innings, as I’ve owned it for seven years (the washing machine and
not my head, which has been about my person for thirty-six and counting). I
kind of knew the game was up when I did a general wash in the morning, for it
to make a screechy rattly sound, the like of which I’d never heard
before. Like all pretend adults, I shrugged and told myself it would be all right later, but this was my first mistake; my second was to attempt a
jeans wash in the evening for it to decide enough was enough and claim
my trousers as its own. I managed to convince it to relinquish them eventually,
but now the door’s locked again with a small puddle of water in the drum and
nothing I can do about it.
(What an exciting, yet clunky paragraph that was.)
Thankfully, we live
in an age when it’s easy enough to order a reasonably cheap replacement (says the
man whose wife paid for it) and have it delivered within a few
days (it will arrive this weekend). Sadly the same can’t be said for my
head, which, like it or lump it, I’m stuck with; I can only hope the physio assessment I have booked for next week will set in motion -
unfortunate wording - a treatment that will ultimately help; I hope so,
as my dizziness is the worst it’s been for a long time and I'm exhausted by it.
It’s perhaps hard to comprehend how debilitating labyrinthitis can be if you haven’t
experienced it. I currently live in a permanent state akin to
having just stepped off a fairground Waltzer, except with that you know the spinning
sensation will eventually pass. For me, it doesn’t stop for weeks or even months, which makes the simplest tasks ten times more difficult. Today, I met
my parents for lunch but spent the whole meal trying to pretend I was
fine when my anxiety was through the roof, and all because my brain was
receiving mixed messages about my balance. Just looking at the screen while I write this is hard, so I'll stop mid-