Over the last few days, I felt like I just couldn't do anything. Anything. Spent a lot of time in bed, and when I wasn't in bed, I wanted to be.
But today was different. Today, I had a farewell lunch with a student about to head off to his freshman year at Stanford; picked up a new pair of glasses (spent the day driving around with an old pair, vision was extremely excellent by my eyes really felt confused); took my wife to the dentist (where she received a "don't worry, nothing's wrong" answer to a "did a filling fall out or go awry" question, always good news); just finished a quick computer-task for the about-to-hit-us school year. No problem, with the "doing" of anything.
Except walking. Standing up. Every time I tried either of those things, I found it weird and difficult. Especially standing up; it's surprisingly, unusually, and persistently difficult—moreso than it usually is. I find it hard to place the feet, sometimes I find them shaking a little before they hit the ground.
A few other persistent malfunctions, details I'll spare you; but a few biological mechanisms persist in refusing to work, and they do not appear to have work-arounds, so I'm really not sure what to do about those... and neither does anyone else, including my medical team.
First meeting of the onrushing school year is Wednesday. I spend all of tomorrow visiting my medical team. I hope they can sustain me for the upcoming assault... I don't feel "unready," but I certainly don't feel "ready."
So how's that different from every single day, in the M.S. biz?
Somehow, I don't find that reassuring. Often, I find such things funny.
Not today.
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