It’s May 2024, and I’ve just woken up on a trip to Boston, eager for the day of sightseeing and clam chowder ahead of me. But upon standing up, I realise that something is very wrong. I’m dizzy, light-headed and swaying, like the feeling when you’ve just stepped off a fairground ride or boat. I eat some breakfast and head back to bed, hopeful that the sensation will subside with a bit more sleep.
But fast forward six months, countless GP appointments, two MRI scans, and what feels…

