I remember the Outer Banks, taking my daughter fishing for the first time, and being completely unsteady on my feet crossing the pier. The planks seemed as if they were moving. The surf nearly knocked me over once we got into the water, and negotiating the sandy beach left my legs burning and exhausted.
I remember going the opening game of the NFL season to cheer on my (disappointing) Bengals as they played the Bears at Soldier Field. Our seats were very high. I didn’t move from my seat during the entire game for fear I’d fall over. I couldn’t even wear my prescription eye glasses because they caused me feel unsteady.
I remember going to a RUSH concert where the Blackhawks showed up with the Stanley Cup. If not for earplugs I never would have survived the concert. I felt swooney from the noise.
I remember cheering my Kentucky Wildcats as they opened the season against Michigan State in Chicago, and between my clapping and all the shouting in the arena (they lost), I felt my whole body was vibrating through that night and into the next day.
I remember going for a jog one week after running 6.5 miles in an hour, and stopping at the end of the block, turning around, and walking home because I was already exhausted.
I remember not being able to clearly understand what the University Provost and my colleagues were talking about three feet away, because I couldn’t filter out the noise.
I remember falling into my garden, destroying a broccoli plant, and fearing I had broken my hip.
I remember taking naps under the desk in my office because my computer screen would set my head to spinning so bad that I had to rest every 15 minutes.
I remember the horror of quitting caffeine and the sadness of abandoning bourbon.
I remember breaking down in tears upon my first visit to the vestibular therapist. She’s a tiny little lady, and I’m a 6’4″, 200 lb man, and when she did strength tests on me I could offer no resistance.
I remember not being able to remember how to put my little boy into his car seat.
I remember trying to write and finding that I had no words.