Today, Feb 14th is one of the more benign holidays that doesn’t go apeshit commercial except for a few hearts and chocolates. Throw in a bottle of Prosecco here and there and a reservation for dinner, the inflated price of twelve red roses is well worth the brownie points for any husband in the doghouse. The Saint Valentine’s Day absolution. Aside from that it comes and goes without too much hoopla.
One of my favorite restaurants, The Blue Rock in Shelburne Falls is housed in the Salmon Fall’s Gallery commanding a splendid view of the village , the glossy ripple of the river below and upstairs a collection of the owner Josh Simpson’s world renowned planets and art glass. He and his co owner wife astronaut Cady Colman have played in the Wilde Irish Women band on numerous occasions. Their duo star power has upped the ante, contributing to many successful fundraising efforts.
I was booked to play this Valentine’s Day at the Blue Rock. I have been there several years in a row. A Winter conduit of romantic harp music is the ambient intent. It’s also my personal end of the legging’s season. I went through my closet to see what collection of seasonal reds might be archived among St Patrick’s day harp plucking green frockery and fascinatin’ frippery.
I pulled out a red velvet number and a full length waist diminishing Spanx.
"Try it on," said Jennie. "I love that one."
"I don’t know about the arms!" I said.
"Wear a jacket," she said.
"It will be too cold anyway to be showing your arms."
I should have gone to the gym and done those upper body arm workouts !
"Too late now," she said.
"Just wear the jacket, and those red sparkly chandelier earrings".
Yesterday morning when I awoke and put my feet on the floor I had a wobbly start to the day. I needed to brace myself to stay upright. My ballast an unreliable relationship with my ugliest but most stable shoes, I leaned on the bed, and then on the wall to the bathroom. I reminded my self of a “go be the wall” a snide Irish aside about an intentionally sneaky furtive wall crawler. That’s me - I thought - unable to leave the wall.
I was not hiding anything - I was merely dizzy.
An uneven lightheaded day followed, but I was able to manage to prepare Super Bowl food without any other weak kneed episodes.
I was looking forward to playing the harp, seeing the many people I know who had booked for dinner and getting my party reds on. I hoped I had inured my fingers to blisters, by practicing ahead, to be able for 4 hour’s playing. Short breaks in between allows me to circulate, chat to people and have dinner. Usually one of the tables will invite me to join them.
A red letter day with a little red flag warning
It started with a few mild dizzy symptoms. Monday morning is a Young @ Heart 10 am to 12 noon, zoom rehearsal.
I tuned the harp to be ready if Bob asked for a Valentine song. I picked, I Had No Time to Hate, by Emily Dickinson. I thought it was as good a love anthem as any, the second verse starts, I Had No Time To Love. As good a time as any for Emily, Today, we barely have time to love. I thought, maybe there’s time on Valentine’s Day?
On the digital ding of 10 am I clicked the Zoom link and the split screen opened showing masked men Bob in Florence with Mark on the piano and 92 year old Anna - I’d kill for that chest voice - singing in Spanish.
Suddenly my chair was a tilt a whirl flinging me violently toward the wall to the right, I grabbed the harp. It wasn’t equal to the next fling. I was hurled to the left. I grabbed the music stand and hung on as the harp and music stand were like me, without gravity and we would fly off to an island in the sky where vertigo was a gift of the gods and we could float around all day.
I’d better let Bob know I’ll be shortly headed for the floor or a levitation off the screen to...
I should call Howard. There wasn’t a peep from my Apple watch. I gave myself an EKG. I measured my heart rate. It was still beating, did I have a stroke ? I was still compos mentes - more or less. Then Deb, MD of all trades arrived as I was testing Terra Firma.
No, I was still on cloud vertigo cuckoo land.
I took a decko at myself in the zoom window and looked like I was expecting a stigmata. From which orifac would the blood start flowing ? I was in such an out of body state that when my sane and worried husband arrived, double doctors pulled me to a stand up, like a 133 lb rag doll and we were off in the car to the ER.
Dr Katz said Benign Positional Vertigo. She had tried the Eppley manoevre with mixed results. I still couldn’t walk unaided. The word benign was jarring.
If this had happened to me when I was out walking there would’ve been nothing to hold onto and who knows how many broken bones as I landed on who knows what.
This is it, I moaned to myself, the end of my life as I have known it , no more independence. I’ll never be able to go outside the door again on my own, I’ll be walking on crutches and then maybe I’ll get me a three speed wheelchair for whizzing around the neighborhood.
That’s what vertigo does, it messes with the brain.
Well what about the brain?
The ER at Franklin Medical Center is a family affair to the man who has worked in the X-ray dept for 45 years. He has just added me to the roster of his private practice.
When a wheel chair rolls up to the main door and it takes two people to decant you from car to chair because your legs are jelly and your head is a helium balloon. It’s not an average day.
We know every one. Nurse’s lined up like a guard of honor at a funeral
I’m dressed in Valentine’s Red, I hand over the red necklace, the jewels. The nurse says you look very nice , where are you going?
I said I have a gig later.
She said, you’re going to have a CT scan, followed by MRI.
I hear you’re overdressed for every occasion, she said as she plunged the IV needle into my vein. Who dresses for the ER?
But isn’t your gig tonight?
I did just like the nuns said, in case you get in an accident, always wear clean knickers.
So I did.
I didn’t have to take them off , the EKG just involves rooting around above the waist under the fashionable Johnny.
No stroke, no carotid artery bad news.
The ER Dr. Nate Wilson gave a very colorful explanation about why this happens.
Oh! my take away is that the rocks in the fluid in my ears may have migrated to my brain.
Maybe I will be able to put my nose out the door in a while and take a walk but in the meantime I’m trying to stay upright.
Married to a man who cheerfully described chemotherapy as a blast, I can’t quite match that yet.
I’m still a little weighed down by those rocks but I am hoping they will keep my feet anchored to the ground.