My hands just-- disappeared.

[The words come as Albert orients himself enough to follow Sheena's careful guiding. There's another laugh, softer now, as his thoughts swim in a rising sea of confusion and nausea again. But he keeps talking, rambling, as if to remind himself that there are actually other things going on.]

I'm walking, thinking about the walk back, and then my head is hurting and-- Did you get my journal? I couldn't-- pick it up. Because of that.