Vertigo is not just dizziness. For patients with Meniere’s disease, it is a sudden, violent loss of balance that can turn daily life unpredictable and frightening.
Meniere’s disease is a chronic inner ear disorder characterized by recurrent vertigo, fluctuating hearing loss, tinnitus, and a sense of fullness in the ear. Though it affects the ear, its impact extends deeply into emotional, social, and professional life.
What Exactly Is Meniere’s Disease? Meniere’s disease is a result of endolymphatic hydrops, an abnormal accumulation of fluid (endolymph) within the membranous labyrinth of the inner ear.
This excess fluid disturbs the vestibular system balance and the cochlear hearing. The result is episodic inner ear dysfunction rather than continuous symptoms, making diagnosis and management challenging.
This was one such case in the evening OPD of Helios
When she entered the consultation room, Dr Sujit Telagamsetty looked up and immediately noticed her demeanor.
(the way you stand, walk, and facial expressions)
She did not appear anxious or hurried. She walked in slowly, closed the door gently behind her, and took her seat with a quiet nod. Her posture was upright, her hands folded in her lap, and her movements were controlled and minimal, as if she were someone accustomed to holding herself together. There was no visible agitation, yet there was a heaviness in her presence.
Dr. Sujit greeted her warmly and allowed a few moments of silence before beginning.
She responded politely, her voice soft and steady, answering questions without elaboration unless gently prompted. As the consultation progressed, it became clear that she was not someone who spoke easily about herself.
Her symptoms emerged gradually, almost cautiously, as if she needed time to trust the space. She began by describing her physical complaint: episodes of sudden vertigo where the room would spin violently, forcing her to lie down and remain absolutely still. These episodes, she said, lasted up to two hours and were accompanied by nausea, sweating, a dull heaviness in the right ear, and a constant humming sound that never fully disappeared. Her hearing would fluctuate during these attacks, worsening noticeably and then partially recovering.
As she spoke, she maintained composure, but Dr. Sujit observed that her grip on her handbag tightened slightly when she described the fear of losing control during these episodes.
Only after the physical symptoms were clearly understood, Dr. Sujit gently asked about the time when these complaints had begun and what had happened during that period.
There was a pause. She looked down for a moment before replying that her first episode had occurred about eight months after her husband’s sudden death. She stated this plainly, without visible emotion, adding that she had “accepted it” and that there was no choice but to move forward for the sake of her children. Yet as she spoke these words, her eyes briefly filled with moisture, and her voice lowered almost imperceptibly. She quickly regained composure, signalling that this was a topic she did not wish to dwell on.
Dr. Sujit did not interrupt or rush her.
Slowly, the case unfolded further. She spoke of nights when sleep was disturbed by thoughts of the past: “It terrifies me, making my nights sleepless. I don’t know how far I can function and handle things without breaking down. I’m trying every day not to give up. I have become all alone, just fighting a battle all the time and constantly reminding myself that I cannot break down.
There was no anger, only restrained sorrow and a sense of duty that kept her moving forward despite inner exhaustion.
As the consultation drew to a close, the pattern had become clear. This was not an emotionally expressive grief nor an acute breakdown but a silent, sustained suppression of loss, carried over months and years, eventually manifesting as a disturbance of balance, both emotional and physical.
Dr. Sujit explained gently that the body sometimes expresses what the mind learns to hide and reassured her that her symptoms were curable and not alarming and could be reduced with medication, and he asked her not to be hopeless or anxious about situations.
Follow-Up: 6 Weeks Later
When she returned for her follow-up visit six weeks later, her entry itself spoke before she did. She walked in with the same quiet composure, but there was a subtle difference; her steps were a little more assured, her shoulders less rigid. She greeted Dr. Sujit with a faint smile, something that had been absent during her first visit, and sat down without the guarded stillness that had marked her earlier posture.
When asked how she had been, she paused, searching for words, and then said softly, “The spinning hasn’t come the way it used to.” She reported that she had experienced only one mild episode of dizziness in the past month, which lasted a few minutes and settled on its own without forcing her to lie down.
The violent, disabling vertigo that once made her fearful of being alone or stepping outside had not returned. The constant humming in her right ear, she noted, was still present but noticeably softer, no longer dominating her awareness throughout the day.
Sleep, she said, had improved. The nights were no longer as frightening. While thoughts of the past still surfaced, they no longer overwhelmed her to the point of exhaustion. “I still think… but I don’t feel that tight choking feeling inside,” she explained, placing her hand lightly on the desk. There were moments of sadness, but they passed without leaving her drained. She had not spoken about this change to anyone at home, she added, almost apologetically, as if relief itself needed permission.
Dr. Sujit observed that as she spoke, her hands rested loosely in her lap; the constant clutching of her handbag was absent. Her voice, though still soft, carried more steadiness. There was no excitement in her improvement, no emotional outpouring, only a quiet acknowledgement that something within had shifted. When asked directly about her fears, she admitted that the constant anticipation of another attack had reduced. “I don’t feel on edge all the time,” she said. “I feel like I can manage as I am supposed to.
Dr Sujit reassured her that this pattern of improvement was a positive sign that healing, especially in conditions rooted in long-standing emotional suppression, often begins subtly. He explained that the reduction in vertigo and improvement in sleep indicated that her nervous system was gradually regaining balance. A well-curated dose of medicines and continuous monitoring made this possible; instead, she was encouraged to continue observing herself without fear, to rest when needed, and to allow emotions to surface naturally without forcing control.
As she rose to leave, she paused briefly at the door and said, almost to herself, “For the first time, I feel like I’m not falling anymore. ” Thank you so much, sir. It was not a declaration of complete recovery, but it was a moment of quiet stability—one that reflected the deeper aim of treatment: restoring balance not only to the inner ear but also to the life that had been silently struggling to stay upright. Dr. Sujit always says bird’s-eye vision is what allows precision on the ground. He always ensures that every detail is handled with utmost care and precision.
We always relate to this, as Dr. Sujit always says, in certain cases, time is a dimension, not a footnote. “This is something we strongly believe in, Helios.
