“Stand up, close your eyes, and march in place for 50 steps,” the doctor says.
I can’t help but think that it sounds like a bad game of Simon Says, but I do it anyway.
“…49, and 50,” I whisper count. Then I open my eyes. I’m on the opposite side of the room from where I started.
“I think you have labyrithitis,” he tells me. “The balance system on the left side of your body isn’t working.”
Marching with my eyes closed? Labyrinthitis? This doctor’s appointment should have come with an “unbelievable” warning label.
If your writing (or your favorite book) came with a warning label, what would it be?