I used to think this problem was just 30 years old. But that was before I left The Big City and moved South to a smallish New England settlement and the danged thing still stuck stubbornly in place.
The Problem
So yeh, I thought it was just 30 years old — The Problem — but even that was after a lot of thinking. And networking. I had no idea it involved centuries. I know that now. But this is then.
On 20 March 2020 – after decades of increasingly crippling symptoms – we hit a new astonishing low. Suddenly I could no longer walk or talk. I began to run into walls and drop things and fall over with each tiny step. I am not exaggerating. I couldn’t move without first throwing myself slowly up against a wall headed in the general direction I wanted to go – a trick it took me a few weeks to perfect, let me tell you.
How I managed to make it to a neurologist is testament to the existence of miracles.
And what did my neurologist say? “Something is keeping your brain from communicating with your body.”
They wanted to do an MRI, of course. But I may already have leaks in my blood brain barrier – do I want to aggravate the situation?
No.
So I said, “Let me think about that.”