Dust On The Brain

My friend (we’ll call her Meg)  is smart as a whip.  Funny, charming, gracious, always makes me laugh…. except when she is totally full of shit. At least that’s what I thought when she told me had this strange ailment.  She called it “dust on the brain”.   This conjures all sorts of weird notions because when I think dust?  I think empty and unused.  Not stuff one wants associated with one’s own brain. I laughed at Meg and told her that only she could come up with such a ridiculous and hilarious interpretation of whatever it was that was plaguing her. I kind of blew her off as just being funny…her usual all-things-aforementioned self.  Ha Ha. Thanks for giving me a chuckle you silly, silly girl.

And then, mysteriously, my husband developed the same symptoms.  Dizziness when he’d move a certain way, weird blurry vision that would come and go. Should I worry?  Is he going to start developing strange ticks like those poor girls I saw on CNN?

Since Erin Brockovich isn’t listed in the yellow pages, we did a little more research.  Low and behold, this dust on the brain business is real.  They don’t call it dust on the brain, however, which restored my faith in the medical community because who in the hell would name it that?  It’s called something much easier to understand than dust on the brain:    Benign Paroxysmal Positional Vertigo.

Damn, that just rolls right off the tongue, don’t it?  If you really want to be in the know, you can refer to it as BPPV which is totally easy since every letter has virtually the same sound. Disclaimer:  don’t try to speak this acronym if you’ve recently eaten ice cream and your lips are colder than normal as it will make every letter sound the same even worse than when your lips are warm.

Said another way: every letter sounds the same no matter what you do or don’t do.

I prefer the lazy girl way so I’ll just call it plain ‘ole vertigo even though the only thing I can of when I think vertigo is the movie of the same name.  It had a really cool theatrical poster, in my opinion.

Anyway, there are medical professionals that cure this ailment.  It’s simple. No drugs. No shots. No probing of any sort unless you pay extra.

These medical pros (we’ll call them Dust Busters) place weird-science-looking goggles on your head, look at the eyeballs on a computer screen and then determine in which ears you have dust. Important side note:   it’s the ears that have the problem….not the brain.  And the dust isn’t dust, really.  It’s crystals that form inside the inner ear and break loose and wreak havoc on your balance and make you fall down and feel like you’ve just gotten off  a diabolical carnival ride.   Or, visually speaking, people see you and think you’re hammered.

Once the Dust Busters have made their diagnosis, they proceed with putting the patient through a series of sudden movements designed to shake the crystals into submission and corral them into corners deep inside the inner ear.  I’ve seen similar moves watching MMA fights.  One guys grabs another guy by the head with both hands, slams it down on the mat, holds it there.  It’s sorta like that only without the chain link or the hefty pay-per-view charge.  And the Dust Busters are wearing clothes and shoes, of course.

The final phase of the cure is the collar.  The cervical collar.  It has to be worn for 48 hours during which time you cannot move your head.

Think about that.  No head movement for 48 hours.

48.

My husband cannot move his head for 48 hours?  They cannot be serious.

The only tranquilizer strong enough to subdue mi esposo for that long can only be administered through some kind of firearm.  I try Wal-Mart but the only kind of gun they carry shoots real bullets so I’m outta luck. He’ll just have to suck it up.

He was a trooper. God love him, he tried his best.  And failed.  It took about 30 minutes for him to rip off the collar and start moving his head around like the girl in The Exorcist.  I still can’t figure out how he gets it to do that but maybe he’s just limber.

The dust blew away on its own….eventually.