Driving 50 miles on roads that include country, interstate, city...with the need to drive back home hours later...is not smart. So I'm not at choir practice. And a recurrence of the vertigo that started about 6 pm proved the wisdom of that decision, but still. Do. Not. Want. The flavor of music for the night is Mozart. And I not only love Mozart, I need the rehearsal because this piece has lots and lots of notes in it, all of which need to be sung not just correctly but with all the shadings of meaning. But I am not there. I am here. With occasional feelings that everything is tilting to one side and sliding off.
The in-house medical expert checked heart, lungs, carotid artery pulses, etc, etc. Heart's fine, carotids fine, all's fine except I have vertigo. He said it's not a stroke but take an aspirin anyway. So I did. He thinks an otolith got loose and is rattling around inside my ear.
Grump. Vertigo is not fun. Do. Not. Want. (Yes, I know I said that before but I'm hoping the universe listens and takes my vertigo and puts in somewhere else. Perhaps in a small, firmly rooted tree which, having no ears, won't be bothered by it.)