Phone Call and Drive to Hell

Chapter Three

Phone Call and Drive to Hell

“Something is terribly wrong!  I can’t stand up!  I can’t see!  What’s wrong with me?”   The receptionist listened as I described what was going on and placed me through to triage where I desperately asked for help.  I was given an same day emergency appointment. 

Now the really crazy thing…  I drove myself to this appointment – in Madison – a drive of over 50 miles.  Seriously, what was I thinking?  The drive was beyond anything I have ever experienced.  As I look back on this, I should not have been behind the wheel of a car.  But, at that time this was the only thing survival lead me to…

Before I could leave I had to get dressed.  That meant going back upstairs.  I sat there on the floor thinking, how was I going to do that?  Sitting there I began to map this out in my head.  First try was to crawl but each reach towards a new step I would flop onto my side or my belly either staying were I was or slide back down.  Then I thought about grabbing the railing; hanging on to it and putting my hand on the opposite wall I pulled myself to my knees.  It worked, and in a kneeling position made my way to the top.  From there I crawled to my bedroom this time leaning one side of my body against a wall.  It was at this point that I recognized touch of some kind oddly helped to partially stabilize me. 

By the time I reached my bedroom I was exhausted, bruised, and confused.  I’m not sure how I found something to wear, but I think it was the first time I decided stripes and polka dots went well together.   I dressed lying on the floor.  I wiggled myself into clothes encased in a horrible feeling of disconnect from my body and surroundings.  I tried to sit up to tie my shoes but fell over as I leaned to grab the laces.  I kicked those off and scrounged for a pair of slip on’s.  Then on my butt, I reversed my way back down the stairs.  Re-recognizing my discovery of touch, I made it to the front door touching  walls, furniture or anything along the same path.  There were open spaces void of anything to touch and the horrible disconnect reappeared.  I wobbled back and forth, side to side, my vision bouncing and blurring all over the place.  I either had to find something to touch or fall down.  I chose the touch and lunged myself towards the door with wobbled steps in a wobbled world.   I made it.  The prize was my habit of keeping my car keys next to the door.  Imagine the hunt for those! 

At that time I drove an older model Ford Bronco, 4×4, 5 speed.  It was parked in the driveway next to my house.  I froze at the thought of getting to it but not of driving it…  I mapped out my approach to the car.  With my hands sliding along and touching the front porch, I made it to the end.  Then I realized, the Bronco was about three feet from where I was.  With my touch gone, I stretched out my arms, took an uncontrolled step, and just let myself fall onto the hood.  I landed on my chest nearly knocking the wind out of myself.  In what seemed like slow motion, I held on to the Bronco and slid my way around the front of and to the driver’s side door.   I wondered if anyone saw me do this.  Apparently not as the local police didn’t show up from a call that I was going to drive drunk…

The body of a Bronco is elevated so to get into it I always grabbed the steering wheel for leverage and sort of jump into the seat.   Once I reached this point I froze thinking of attempting this.  With survival mode securely attached, all I knew is that I had to get to my appointment to find out what was wrong with me.  I stood there hanging on to the driver’s side door, holding the steering wheel and with everything I had, pulled myself into the Bronco only to fall over into the passenger seat with the stick shift jabbed into my side.  Still, rather than call for help, or panic, I continued on my quest to get help on my own.  I grabbed the steering wheel, pulled myself up behind it and held on.   After what seemed like hours, with hell bent conviction to drive to my appointment, I put the key in the ignition, put my foot on the brake, pressed in the clutch, started the Bronco up and backed out of the driveway.  Once on the street I thought to myself, “This is crazy, how I will ever get there like this?  Still, I couldn’t think of any reason not to begin the most intense journey of determination I have ever experienced. 


About Cheryl Schiltz Photography

Thank you for visiting, I hope you are enjoying my photography. I've happily been a photographer for over 25 years making it a passion of mine. My work has been inspired by places near and far, those I never thought I'd visit and by the work of others I so very much respect from whom I've learned so much. The vibrant colors of the outdoors take me home and when they stand still just long enough for me to admire and capture them in landscapes, forests, flowers, all things our beautiful world holds, I find myself complete. I hope you enjoy my work and give my page a like. I'd love to see you here.
This entry was posted in Aminoglycosides, Beginnings, Disability, Disability Noise, Discovery, Gentamicin, Inspiration, Living with a Label, Motivation, Non Fiction, Oscillopsia, Ototoxicity, Perception, re-educated attention, Resilience, Self Help, Spirit, Subject Zero, Thoughts, Tongue Display Unit, Transition, trauma, Vestibular System and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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