February 9, 2017. The alarm on my phone was set to a pre-dawn hour. We were to leave for a holiday in the hills, a long drive that I had planned for days, eager for hours of camaraderie with the steering wheel. But the waking was a shock. The walls and ceiling of the room were swirling, my body felt as if strapped to a rotating carnival wheel. Sitting, standing, walking, nothing eased it. I threw up from the nausea. Maybe it will slow, maybe it will stop, maybe it is nothing. It is vertigo, said my cousin (a doctor) on the phone, and prescribed an over-the-counter medication. The world steadied. I made the drive, the vacation, but the condition was now with me, for several hours each day.