Hello. It’s been one hell of a week.

Well, it’s been a little more than a week, if I’m being honest. What started as a couple days of quirky spots in my vision — “It’s been nine or ten days, why’re my new glasses lenses acting up now?” — turned into some frankly scary double vision, followed by some literally dizzying motion. Speaking as someone who’s never stayed at the hospital before, much less had his brain and spine scanned by giant superconducting magnets, it’s been a week of firsts.

Thankfully, I’m home now. I am okay but — well, I’m unsteady. Reading is fine, as is watching television. But everything else feels…slower. My eyes are much better than when I first left the hospital, but there’s not much I can focus on at the edges of my vision. I walk around my apartment slowly, tentatively, my hands and feet both looking for purchase. And a too-quick head turn brings a brief, sharp, spinning wave of nausea.

Writing’s been the hardest part. Replying to texts takes ages, as I keep hitting weird, random keys on my phone. I’ve been relying on iOS Dictation, but it’s been even harder on my laptop. The keyboard feels miles wider than it usually does, almost edgeless, and I’m deleting letters after I type them, or pressing the wrong key. This fall was set aside for a new writing project, but now? Well, I don’t know. I mean, this blog entry started seven days ago; back then it was all I could do to create an empty file, and save it for later.

It’s a weird time, honestly. But it’s not all bad. My partners at Autogram have really stepped up, bringing in colleagues to cover up work, and giving me time and space to rest. Friends and family have both reminded us how much we have to be thankful for, showing up for the two of us in so many ways. And of course, She has been doing so much heavy lifting: between bringing me overnight clothes at the hospital, to providing updates to friends and family, to general getting around-ness, I literally don’t know how I would’ve coped without her.

Frankly, I’m frightened about what’s next. I have been getting better, but who knows if that’ll continue. And I still don’t have a diagnosis yet; that’ll come next month, and the likely diagnoses scare me a little. But I’m trying to keep myself focused on tomorrow, not next month — after all, I’ve got to get better before anything else happens.

I’m trying to remember that, anyway.