It hurts. I can't see on the left side, and my innards feel like sandpaper, and I look like shit. The doctor looked at me, and said if I came back in a month, he could do something for me then. A month! A month I have to live like this, in this pain, with this shame every time I realize someone is staring at me... But I am strong. I will do what I have to do.
...
The month is past. The doctor did his job, though he was none too gentle. But I can see, and I look better. My innards still feel like sandpaper, though, and the grit is getting coarser rather than finer as time goes on... A different doctor is needed for that. I am strong. I will wait.
Uncomplainingly, you see, I wait, I work. All night, since you ask it, I will hold up this light for you. Nary a complaint, only I'm getting tired... So tired...
...
AAAAGH! What was? Did I sleep? I'm sorry! I didn't... How long?
We go back to the doctor. Surely he did something wrong, gave me the wrong medicine, to make me fall asleep to easily. The doctor is apologetic, but unrepentant. He explains the medicine given, but believes it must be out of my system now.
But I'm still tired. We go to the other doctor, and he makes the sandpaper feeling go away, and then he eases a strain I didn't even know I had until it was gone. This doctor is good. But I'm still so tired...
...
AAAAGH! I slept again! This time I am given some new medicine, and it helps to chase the tiredness away. But the medicine runs out all too soon, and...
AAAAGH! Not again! What is wrong with me? What is happening? I feel so worthless, so useless!
We've passed the doctor's office. Where are we...? Oh! The Best Doctor. The one I like. It's restful, here. The doctors and nurses are gentle and loving. (Sometimes I play little tricks so I can come back. One time I came in for a cough, and after they cured the cough, I lost my voice. Another time I had something in my eye, and after they cured that, I hurt my leg. It's nice here. Quiet. Soothing.)
The doctor runs strong, careful hands over me, and he finds the hidden weakness. He fixes it, and suddenly I am strong, again, like I was before the first doctor. I haven't been this strong since before the accident! Oh, wonderful doctor! I am eager to perform my duties again, to prove I am neither worthless nor useless!
...
But I miss the doctor. I just want a little more time in the best place, a little more rest. Without even being aware of it, I trip. My foot hurts. The pain is incredible. I can't bear to look - have I ripped a gash in it? Or is it a long series of smaller pinpricks? I can't look. It feels boneless; there is no structure left! What was that? Two gashes? Oh, my foot, my poor foot...
(I like going to the Best Doctor. It is quiet. Peaceful. Relaxing...)
Yep. Left the house yesterday to go grocery shopping, and... the car had a flat tire.
Word of the Day: shanghai - to force aboard a ship for service as a sailor; to trick or force into an undesirable position
This mess with the car is starting to get on my nerves. I definitely need to get in some exercise tonight. Tennis, I hope. Well, maybe if Kris is running late I can shanghai Matt or Braz into playing with me until she gets home. I just need to remember a bandage for my knee.
- between books
Current Projects:
- going out of my mind
Diet Progress: 13 lbs lost
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