Current-time, discounting your waste, seems river-like and fetid, some water-rotten collection of outflow. It seems city-bound rather than rural, some industrial subtext sensed but not comprehended. So thinking, you re-categorise yourself as being within a boat or upon a barge, the occasional swelling-upwards and dislocation that you experience is likely a true motion after all and not some vertigo. Since neither your body nor the items in the room give any appearance of sliding, at least not in relation to one another, you make assumptions both that the craft you are within is large and stable and that the water route it traverses is calm.
Are you drifting slowly and silently through some waterway, some huge canal or river or bay, itself within the bounds of some city or town, your own home town perhaps, being carried ever farther away by tidal or other motive forces? You do not recall your location, cannot bring to mind your place of residence or its relation to this boat or barge, nor can you think of any reason why that might be so. Simple trauma, give it time.
You try to move but do not. You play a little game and fit the words of the sentence a man, a plan, a canal onto the beams of the table above you, letters equally-sized in your mind and they fit, with a gap, onto the centralmost strut. You re-order them several times but are unable to find a consistent pattern of spacing which would make them snug. You try to move but do not.
There are no sounds of water despite your presumed movement upon it, further evidence of size perhaps. As you strain to listen in the now total silence you eventually forget what that means. You lose all sense of what sound is, of how its data differs from others, as your background-level tinnitus grows into something felt rather than heard. Your senses disperse the more you try to take some hold of them, and you do not know how to call them back. You are certain that sound is present but remains just beyond reach. You strain through the fog of an idea, something not quite brought to coherence, but fail to make the final connections and so lose it, presumably forever. It is an experience which you recognise and the familiarity does not bring you comfort.
You are embarrassed, that you have lived so long with these senses, your only real and personal tools for interpreting the world, and yet know nothing about them. If anyone else had lost their hearing would they not consider that yes, my hearing is gone, I shall simply commence again in the known manner, or would they be likewise baffled? You do not know. Nor does the thought that they might be equally confused bring you any comfort. It is likely that you have secretly believed that regardless of the capabilities of others you would always have some additional capacity within yourself. You feel heat in your face and back and chest, and wonder what that must reveal should others see it. You do not think at all for a while and experience only that hotness.
You try to move but do not.