Grumpy and the other six dwarfs

I told you that I don't like weather that's so hot it makes my hair frizz. And I look like a very sweaty person with an afro (good look for some, but not necessarily for a white woman on an elbow crutch).

I've been very grumpy, bad tempered, pissed off...and I told you about the neighbors, and, trust me, some of them really want a punch in the face-not by me, I'm not a hitter. I do my hurling of abuse verbally, and they're too stupid to understand it anyway.

It's been that kind of situation since the beginning of June, when we suddenly got weather that could match Hell for heat. Oh, yeah-I forgot. I live in Hell. Oh, well...it is summertime, after all. Could be worse: I could be living in the middle east, and then be fighting heat and terrorists, bombs, guns, crazy people with weapons-so I consider myself lucky that I'm living here at the moment. Guns, bombs, knives, acid, all manner of weapons-come to visit London, we've got them all.

How fortunate that in eight years I've learned to duck.

The good thing-apart from the fact that we've finally had some badly needed rain, and some cooler weather (less that 80F- "cool" is relative), I had some good news on Tuesday. Actually, it was great news.

My neurologist gave my name to another radiologist-someone who is doing research on bilateral vestibular hypofunction (loss of the balance system, it took me awhile to be able to even say the technical term without tripping over it. Try to say "bilateral vestibular hypofunction" very fast-especially after a couple of glasses of wine. I dare you.)

So I got a call a couple of weeks ago from the testing neurologist (Ray), explaining that at another hospital there is research into BVH (so much easier to abbreviate!), looking at testing people who have had this condition for a long time (eight years. They're all very excited). I immediately said yes, and then on Tuesday I braved the London Underground to go to West London, walking through a cemetery to get there (easy peasy. Not a ghost in sight. And yes, I watch Supernatural).

I had enough time to cool down over a coffee before we met-a good thing, because the underground was so hot that everyone else was sweating, too. Imagine. I'm 5'3"- I come up to people's armpits. How very, very unpleasant.

Several hours later-and a lot of tests, including standing on a moving platform with a blindfold on me, I had an EEG to measure brain function. I said to Ray that I was glad that it shows that I really do have a brain. I did all kinds of things before then: standing in the dark, feet together, feet apart, same without the blindfold, looking everywhere,walking in the light then in the dark...it was tough, but I soldiered on. And the end result?

I did extremely well. I've done most of those exercises for less time, with worse results, and the moving platform did nothing to make me more secure. But Ray said that I did better than most of the other patients. They're looking for 20 so they can publish. I was number 11. And I did things that some of the other people couldn't do. I've definitely got vestibular destruction-but after eight years, I measure so much better than I did when they did the same tests six years ago. I did better than I did even when the tests were repeated three years ago. I could've hugged him (I didn't). My neurologist works there, too, not just in Queen Square; he came into the room to thank me for taking part, and said that he'll have a lot more data to provide when he sees me in October.

Even the journey back to North London in a stinky carriage that was like travelling in a sauna couldn't upset me (good thing I didn't eat anything until I got back, though. Yuck).

And I stayed away from as many neighbors as I could after that. I just did the mundane things, like cleaning and laundry. I also did my daily walk, which usually takes place very, very early (6am).

I'm being cautiously optimistic when it comes to recovery. It's been eight years; on Friday it was exactly eight years since those idiots nearly did me in. Eight very, very difficult years to reach this point. What a terrible journey! But I learned things.

I've learned how strong I am, how strong I've had to become. I get grumpy with the neighbors, all fighting among themselves and whining about how this one does this, this one doesn't do that...it's like being in a group of four year olds-only I think that four year olds probably behave better.

I go out my front door and if I turn left out of the building, someone corners me to complain about some trivia or another. Go out my door and turn left and leave the building by the other entrance, and someone else stops me with some other mindless drivel. I know that they're all much older, and some of them are even physically disabled, but hey-what do I do next, go out the window?

After Tuesday, I know that going out the window is a distinct possibility. I can probably do that now. I can even climb the fence if necessary.  But I've nailed the escape, and not by any means necessary: I put my earphones into my phone and I pretend to be having a conversation. I wave at the neighbors, talk into the phone, and just hope that nobody phones me until I get well out of the area!

So far, so good. Now I'm going to Starbucks-with earphones in, of course!