Vertigo dreams

[vaneramos]

I spent most of yesterday high above the ground without experiencing vertigo. Since Thursday we have been installing a new organ at St. James Anglican Church in Dundas. The first task has been to install two large, raised boxes that will contain the wind chests and pipes. The roofs of these boxes are at least six metres above the floor of the church. Sooner or later I would have to work up there, and the time came yesterday.

Maybe it was because I spent the morning working my way higher and higher, on various tasks, desensitizing. Maybe the heat and humidity provided enough real discomfort for my brain and body to work with. Whatever the reason, by the time I reached the roof, I experienced none of the customary sensation: legs turning to water.

I had to screw down the last roof boards, then fasten all the laps together (the roof and wall board fit together in a semi-tongue-and-groove fashion, and the seams must be tightened to avoid noisy vibrations), and finally start staining the whole enclosure from the top down. It reminded me of building a tree fort, which turned the whole endeavour into a pleasant adventure.

As a boy I and my neighbourhood friends had the run of a one-acre woodlot, which we called The Jungle. We filled it with trails and tree forts—one large central one we shared, and one or two smaller outlying forts for each individual. We enacted fantasy games there, role-playing princes, princesses and slaves. I was always the prince. I wasn't afraid of heights then. Those remain some of my happiest memories.

If I can just keep experiencing heights that way, maybe I can make my discomfort a thing of the past.

Last night as I drifted off to sleep, I was startled by a vertigo dream. I was peering over the edge of the organ box onto the church floor far below, and it felt like falling. For the next few minutes my body jolted again and again with visions of swimming heights, until I finally relaxed and fell asleep. Dreams like these often occur after incidents of vertigo, but this time the whole unpleasant experience was delayed.

Comments

[queenmomcat.livejournal.com]

Oh, good; I'm not the one that gets "processing the day's events" anxiety dreams. (I'm not crazy about heights, but oddly I've never had a dream about it. Everything else though.)

[vaneramos.livejournal.com]

Processing it at night seems a better deal than being afraid to do the job in the first place. I had to go up again today, in fact I had to climb an unsteady scaffold (my workmates managed to knock it over the other day, miraculously without injury or damage to anything), which I've avoided all week. But again no vertigo. I wonder how I'll sleep tonight.

I have had veritgo since the stroke

[ranjtheobscure.livejournal.com]

And so I salute your accomplishment!

Way to go Van!

Re: I have had veritgo since the stroke

[vaneramos.livejournal.com]

I didn't acquire vertigo until I was 25. It happened one day while climbing a lookout tower with a friend who was terrified of heights. My guts started squirming in sympathy and I've had trouble ever since. Fortunately, the late onset usually allows me to wrap my head around the situation, but this is my first experience without vertigo. Or at least delayed vertigo. Even worse today: I had to climb a scaffold that I've mistrusted all week. But again, no discomfort.

Re: I have had veritgo since the stroke

[ranjtheobscure.livejournal.com]

I hope this means you are getting the best of it.

I cannot ride a regular bicycle, or lean forward standing up without the sensation of falling. Sometimes I do fall, and my rule of thumb is, I will heal, the camera will not.

Re: I have had veritgo since the stroke

[vaneramos.livejournal.com]

It sounds like your vertigo is functional, in that it's helping you avoid a genuine hazard.

My story got even weirder the second night, but I won't go into much detail. Somehow the situation seriously unsettled my neural chemistry. I might have become seriously ill very quickly, were it not for mirtazapine, which I've been taking to treat anxiety disorder. It kicks in as soon as I become exhausted, and restores my sleep cycle quickly. I'm grateful for that. When I sleep well, I am well.

Ironically, I'd recently been thinking it would be nice to stop or reduce the dosage.

Fortunately I'm probably done working at heights for a while.