It was a truly discomforting state. The world seemed distant, as though he were looking at it through smoky glass. Sounds were eerily muted, even those of the traffic outside and a cat in the alley under his window. His sense of touch was obscured as well, as if he were wearing oven mitts. He had difficulty remembering anything clearly. It was a little bit like being really, really drunk, with the room spinning around and a feeling like had stepped away from the world. Except that the dimness made it feel as if the world were trying to pull away from him. Everything but death and loss seemed uncertain. Death and loss were the only constants in his life.