Wednesday, April 29, 2009

At death's door

I'm coughing really really badly and I'm preparing myself mentally for the prognosis of TB which will leave me missing out on SYF and lying on a hospital bed dimly in the twilight alone, save for the ominous green glow emanating from the screen of the life-support machine.

Anyway I coughed out tiny globs of blood though maybe they're really just the skins of the plum I ate after dinner. And I feel faint and my chest hurts. But I'm not running a fever which means I'm probably not infected... yet.

I guess this period of stress and illness and disease has really stirred up the hypochondriac in me.

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