From last Monday night until Friday, I had the pleasure of living in the alternate reality called the nation Vertigo. My little brain spun like roulette wheel refusing to stop, defying our precious laws of physics with glee.
The simple act of walking became an adventure fraught with the danger of swinging and staggering from wall to pieces of furniture.
Vertigo this intense demanded a call to EMS for a ride to Arlington Memorial Hospital and a three-day stint in sumptuous room overlooking Cooper Street.
I laid in bed my entire stay leaving only for a trip to MRI City to eliminate the possibility of BRAIN TUMOR. I told the medicinal types that I, MARK WILT, will not truck with a BRAIN TUMOR. How preposterous!
They insisted I take the test by holding a scalpel to my neck. The MRI showed a disturbing lack of a cerebrum and a cerebellum however my medulla was green and heathy.
They prescribed a cute baby pill and kicked me unceremoniously from my room.
No ceremony, HUMPH!
I’m better now
It could have been worse, like COVID-19 worse.