Saturday, 11 May 2013

And... repeat!

Hospital sheets always smell like death.

In and out today.

I am here so early there are no other patients.  Which I don't like.  I am usually one of those "hospital talkers" people hide from, and I love eavesdropping.  Out of luck today.

There was no steroid-mania last night.  Just a little fogginess and restlessness.  But I managed to get some sleep.

I am still ravenous though.  I could murder a Big Mac.  And my heart is thundering and head is pounding (that precious little Ativan-Prednisone cocktail).

Snap! - Someone has arrived.  The life cycle of a facial cyst has just been explained in great detail - very, very close to the side of my curtain.  I love gross stuff.

Day 2 done.

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