And I cried

I laid in bed for the better part of the day yesterday while my inner ear threw it's fit.  Laying on my left side and looking straight forward seems to help.  Or sleeping.  I slept off and on quite a bit yesterday.  In between sleep cycles I would hear Joel fussing downstairs (he just doesn't fuss, really ever) and I dispaired over the fact that I quite literally could not physically get out of bed to see what was wrong.  I knew he was in good hands and being taken care of, but my mothering instincts were hit hard as I was forced to just listen and not respond.  So I just laid, staring straight forward and cried.  My beautiful friend, Terri Kennedy, was watching him and brought him up after trying everything she could think to get him to stop fussing.  I laid him down next to me and nursed him and it was incredibly therapeudic for both of us.  I cried more.  
I feel like I'm back at the beginning of this frustrating and discouraging journey.  The first vertigo attack that I had over two years ago was by far the worst (I wasn't fortunate enough at the time to have Zofran at my disposal), but this one came in as a close second.  I've gone without a true attack for over a year and half, so I figured they'd just decided to leave me be.  This one came out of no where.  In the past year and a half any time my left ear "stuffs up" (hearing diminishes) I always had something I could blame it on.  One of the kids was sick and I must be fighting something off.  I was recently sick.  My allergies have been bad lately.  I ate something with gluten in it.... etc.  I laid in bed ALL day sifting through my memory to see if I could find something, anything that I could blame this surprise attack on.  Thats the worst part for me about this one.  I can't blame it on anything.  I want to be in control, as humans always do, but I can't this time (not that I was right any other time, but it gave me comfort to blame something)  There's nothing.  It came like a freight train, stayed a while and left me feeling car sick, weak and afraid of when it might come back again.  I've read many a blog of sufferers of vertigo attacks that voice the fear they live in.  The always anticipated and unknown arrival of yet another attack.  When will the next one happen?  Can I travel?  Will I be driving with my 3 precious boys in the car?  Will it be when Josh is gone for 2 weeks in May?   Will it be when all my friends are at work or gone or busy and can't just drop everything and come to my rescue.  I'm not sure how yesterday would have looked had I not been able to call Joia and Terri to come take care of my boys.  I couldn't stand.  I could barely lift my head off the pillow.  It's like being in a "Gravitron" at the fairgrounds.   
My fight is NOT letting the fear sink into my soul.  If we all feared everything that COULD happen, we'd live a life steeped in dispair.  It's a true struggle for me to not let it color grey everything that happens in my life, from day to day, like it did before it stopped a year and a half  ago.  I got really excited about something today.  Then it crossed my mind, "oh yeah.  I had a vertigo attack yesterday.  They are back.  When is it going to happen again?  Will I be able to take a Zofran in time or will I heave my guts out?  Will someone be able to take care of my boys?  How long will it last?..." etc.   
These are my fears.  These are very real fears for people who suffer with vertigo attacks.  I know them to be fears straight from the pit of hell, but it doesn't make it any easier to ward them off.  I'm in a constant battle now to NOT fear the unknown.  When and where will it happen next?  Does this mean I have Meniere's?  Am I going to go deaf in my left ear?  Is someone else going to have to raise my children while I lay like an invulid in bed?  Am I going to have to forfeit being a "fun" wife for my husband?  Am I going to become a burden on my loved ones?  These are my battles.  I pray all day and wipe dry the tears the well in my eyes everytime it comes to mind, which right now is very frequent.