The day has arrived.  This morning we will be flying to Phoenix.  Vertigo or no vertigo, I need to get on that airplane and survive the flight.  I have my trusty barf bag, bequeathed to me by the ER nurse over the Memorial Day weekend, when the nausea and spinning got so bad I needed a shuttle ride to the hospital by my partner Margie.

The ER doctor and attending nurse both raised their eyebrows and uttered audible Ah’s when they learned of my upcoming trip to meet with Maya my birth mom.  I was relieved to receive the diagnosis of benign positional vertigo and to chuck the antibiotics that were causing me to double-over with gut pain.  The inner ear infection suspected by my acupuncturist was a no-show. The nurse did not go so far as to say the word psychosomatic, but Margie did – and the nurse did not disagree.

Phoenix or bust.