“I think you have MS.” The eye doctor looked at me with concern.
“What?” But I'm healthy, I thought. By then, the world had already sucked me into a vortex
far away from anything and anyone. I vaguely remember Nathan pulling out all
the napkins and Kleenex from the doctor’s office garbage can and tugging out all
the electrical cords from the outlets. I did nothing. The eye doctor became Nathan's makeshift babysitter.
Swallowing...
