Whit turned ten in January, but we finally celebrated his birthday with a party (ish) on Saturday. His best friend slept over on Friday night and we went indoor skydiving and surfing on Saturday at Sky Venture in Nashua, New Hampshire. The boys had a blast. The photos and video I have of Whit’s face in the skydiving chamber are priceless.
After skydiving they went surfing. This was really fun too. I thought about the surfing camp I went to, in 2000, right before graduating from business school. I found surfing really difficult. Nevertheless, they were undaunted and unafraid.
On Sunday, Whit’s baseball team had their first scrimmage. For the first time in his life, he pitched. I watched him on the mound and tears pricked at my eyes. He has a long way to go but I’m proud of him for standing there alone, for trying, for opening himself up to failure like that. It’s a lot of pressure, pitching. I have a new respect for everyone who has taken the mound, whether in the World Series playoffs or on a Little League field.
Monday morning I woke up out of breath, the room spinning around me. This has never happened to me before. I had felt a bit off for days, truth be told: vaguely dizzy and just plain strange. The best way I can describe how I felt last week is as though I was floating above myself, but not entirely inside my own body. Monday I knew why. I couldn’t stand up without falling over and the room kept spinning. Thankfully Matt was able to stay home with me Monday and took me to the doctor who did some basic neuro tests and confirmed that this seems to be a garden variety episode of vertigo.
I’m writing on Tuesday morning and I still feel terrible. Perhaps slightly improved over yesterday (I am sitting at my desk, but my head is hurting and spinning at the same time) but definitely not okay. I still don’t want to drive. I really just want to lie down. There’s a limit to how long I can put my day job on hold. I’m trying to accept the very loud message from the universe that I don’t control it – or anything. This is both unpleasant and scary though, if I’m honest.
I keep thinking about Whit leaning forward into a tunnel of air or stepping onto a surfboard or the pitching mound. I need some of his courage now.
Note: I was not compensated by Sky Venture for this post in any way. This is just my personal experience.
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