It's not a tumor

Loyal Cyber Bears! Missed me? Oooh, how I've missed you!! Life was getting back to normal and I was all ready last week to give you a nice long update on Brother Bear (he's doing GREAT! more coming very soon, I promise) and then the bottom fell out on me. Literally!

Let me 'splain.

Thursdays Sugar Bear goes to Mama Bears' Day Out. So, Thursdays are my days to be super-duper-effecient and get everything-I-wanted-to-do-all-week-without-a-bear-cub done in a mere 5.5 hours. That usually includes an hour or so dedicated to writing and it is, truly, one of my favorite times of the week.

So anyway, I went to bed Wednesday night giddy with anticipation of what the next day had in store for me. Bright and early Thursday morning my alarm went off and I popped out of bed (okay, so maybe my alarm was going off and I heard Papa Bear shout, "Mama Bear your alarm is going off and Sugar Bear is crying!"). I started my normal journey to the bathroom, and that's went it all went wrong.

Terribly, terribly wrong.

I took what I thought were a few straight steps and found myself face-to-face with my chest of drawers. More steps, a wall, a bureau, and door frame later I realized that my balance was a little off. Papa Bear helped me the last few feet to the toilet at which point I realized I needed to forgo my normal bathroom ritual and instead, relieve myself of the contents of my stomach. I then proceeded to stay on the bathroom floor for the next 2 hours watching the room spin every time I opened my eyes and then consequently getting sick. Papa Bear was a champ and cancelled his work plans for the day and took over parenting the cubs. Meanwhile, I asked God for forgiveness for whatever it was I did, prayed for a quick death, and inspected the inner details of my toilet.

I was finally able to crawl - literally on my hands and knees - to the bed, and proceeded to stay there with my eyes closed. Until Saturday afternoon. If I opened my eyes the ceiling spun like a top. Papa Bear came in to check on me and when I rolled over to greet him, everyone regretted it. By that evening, I knew something was terribly wrong and I needed to go to the doctor but I couldn't make it the 9 feet to the toilet much less to the car on the other side of the house. I mentioned something to Papa Bear about a sledgehammer and he retorted back something about only having a crowbar. I'll tell you right now, that crowbar sounded very tempting.

Friday morning my parents arrived to help out (cue angels singing) and I stayed in bed holding on for dear life. Luckily for us, Papa Bear's work has a House Call Program that will send a P.A. Bear to your location. Given the symptoms Papa Bear had entered into their computer system, she arrived assuming I had a stomach bug. Once she saw me splayed on the bed, eyes closed, holding onto the mattress, her eyes got really big.

I knew it. I was dying.

She said, "Oh my, you have Labyrinthitis!"

My response to her (seriously) was, "How long do I have to live?" Let's just say, I didn't appreciate it when she subsequently started laughing.

Apparently, the near-death experience I was having was vertigo due to some sort of inner ear infection/irritation. The nice P.A. Bear then said that I would certainly not die, but she understood how I thought I might. She prescribed 3 medications, one of which would help the vertigo. I think I might have kissed her at that point...but my memory is still a little fuzzy.

Needless to say, I've never, ever, ever, EVER, EV-AH felt so bad in my entire life. I did not rejoin the land of the semi-normal until Sunday. My parents stayed until we were assured that I could survive without the vertigo meds (can't drive on them) and perform basic daily tasks like, say, breathing.

And this, Cyber Bears, is why you didn't hear from me last week. I hope you understand. More updates on the Four Bears coming soon.

Until then, may the Lord bless you. And, may you never in your lifetime experience vertigo. I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy!