April 5. The wall of the examination room is full with certificates from neurological and ophthalmological associations. The oldest is from 1988. He is very confident and does not allow himself to be interrupted in the sequence of his examination steps. We make our way through my brain with the mouse wheel. “No one can read these images as well as I can,” he says, and concludes that the angioma in my brain stem got larger from January to March, and that’s clearly the reason for my paralyzed eye muscle. It will most likely go away on its own. – To this, my neurologist would say that the images can pass through slightly different planes and that if a hemorrhage were to disrupt this highly concentrated area in my brain stem, I should have more symptoms than just this one. – He thinks it is pointless to try and challenge the eye, exercise it. The eye muscle is one of only two muscles in the body that never takes a break. I think it’s pointless to discuss it, but: I don’t want to train the muscle, but the nerves. I want my signaling pathways back. And the retina. – He speaks his report into a microphone connected to a speech recognition program. Because the program is sluggish and makes many mistakes, he speaks so slowly that he could just as easily type it all. And he can type, because he keeps correcting the program’s errors.