AND THEN I WENT BLIND.
I had closed my eyes because of the nausea and the bright spots, and when I opened them again, I couldn't see anything. Dark. Black. I actually touched my eyeballs with my fingers just to prove to myself that they were actually open. They were.
So I silently flipped my shit. Terry Gross was yacking in my earphones, I was sweating in actual streams - seriously, I soaked through my clothes and made puddles in my boots - and tried to figure out at what point I should get the attention of the girl next to me and tell her that I could see absolutely nothing at all. It was absolutely terrifying.
I was too panicked to get real about what being blind would mean, but I did have time to figure out that I'd lose my job, Mike would probably not dump me, and I really did not know if I wanted to live without my sight. That might seem silly now, but I was really in the shit, man. It was bleak.
And then...after ten minutes (a loooong ten minutes), it came back. It was kind of like a Magic Eye poster, where the blackness resolved itself into light and dark spots, then fuzzy shapes, then good old regular-type sight. The sweating and the nausea stuck around to kick it with me a while longer, but the blindness didn't come back. Thank freaking goodness.
I just went to a doctor on campus, and she said it was an extreme ocular migraine - so no headache, but an eyeball shitshow. It's nice to have a diagnosis, but I do not want it to happen again, ever. I'm not sure I could handle it.
What a day, man.