The first time they brought me to a mirror was after 24 days in intensive care, 16 of them in a coma. Looking back at me from the mirror was a character from *The Lord of the Rings*. And believe me, it was definitely not an elf. I was terribly upset: I thought they were never going to discharge me. But the doctors kept working their miracle, I worked with a physical therapist, ate, and tried to sleep more (still my biggest problem). In the last few days they even let me go out onto the shared balcony twice a day for 5 minutes at a time. Though honestly, the balcony only made me feel worse: the weather was beautiful, the sun was shining, there were parks and trees down below, and I was stuck in a hospital room. But then the day came—hooray! After 32 days in the hospital, the doctors decided that further recovery required not inpatient treatment, but getting back to normal life. Walking, spending time with family. Getting immersed in the routine of everyday movement. And just like that, there I am hobbling through a park in pants three sizes too big. The first thing I asked was to be taken somewhere with trees. For now, the plans are simple: physical therapy every day. Maybe a rehabilitation center. Standing on one leg. Fully regaining control of my fingers. Keeping my balance. Funny—I dreamed of learning to wakeboard behind a boat on the waves, and I managed it this summer. And now I’m learning to stand on one leg. Some amusing things have come up. For example, I can’t throw a ball with my left hand. I can even catch it, but throw it—no. My brain just doesn’t want to make that movement. Or writing by hand. Until recently, I couldn’t write in a straight line. I kept starting in a column instead. Rehabilitation, in short. Once again, huge thanks to the entire team of doctors at the Charité clinic and to Professor Eckard personally. They did incredible work. Thank you all for your support 💪. It was and still is incredibly important. Don’t think I don’t know what you’ve been writing. As soon as I was more or less able to think clearly, people were reading me the comments. By the way, I’m going to try to spend a bit more time on social media. Yesterday a neuropsychologist came by and ran some tests to check whether I’d gotten any stupider. I asked what I should do to recover faster—not just physically, but mentally too. I liked the answer: read more, post on social media. Play video games. Now I need to find out whether it’s possible to get a prescription for a PS5 at the hospital.