Notwithstanding the side effect of numbness (no less the way I cannot help but gawk when you stride by), my symptoms include dumbness of two sorts. Inability to talk is one. The second is paralysis of thought itself, characterized by spells of dizziness, a lack of judgment (this rhyme scheme, for instance), fever, sweats, and chills.
The only known cure, though, risks even more stupidity, a thing I know you can’t abide. Nevertheless, I want a cure so badly (to abate that other want) that this thin page, wracked sorely with travail, I might now be so stupid as to mail.