March 12th, Year 22

The first round of tests have come back, showing I am in perfect health. While I should be glad for this, I find myself weighed down by concern. If it is not in the blood, then where are the answers to be found.

My vision is failing. It is doubled, and it is blurred. My limbs grow weaker by the day.
Another possibility, the doctor informs me. A Vitamin B12 deficiency.

 
I am damned, or I have been careless. My life will be tied to a wheelchair, or it can all be repaired with a sublingual dosage of a vitamin my body is lacking.

The screams are rising to my chest, stopped at the throat by a sadness that I’ve never been able to process.

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March 12th, Year 22

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