Sometimes, when I'm sitting very still watching a movie...outside myself and lost in the story and I've had a glass of wine...I'm all nestled into my chair under the big fuzzy blanket...with a dozing cat keeping my feet toasty warm...it isn't until Reid bounds up the basement stairs and looks at me expectantly...and I reach for the Roku remote to pause...moving breaks the spell. My hands feel perfectly normal. Until I need to use them. I imagine it's something like waking up and discovering you're still in jail. You want to pull up the blanket and crawl back inside that dream where everything is fine. Sweet while it lasts but shatters and falls away so abruptly.