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Well --
D-land:

Here I sit, in a dreaded hospital; they're still deciding what box to put me in -- I suspect the wrong one, but, I don't think I care which one I die in this time -- well, IF death is what's here -- they've put me in a little temp room of my own, and let me run around for most of 29hr doing my own things.

I can tell freedom is part of what makes me better; I don't have the freedom to roam atm, and it's made me feel sickly again. No Dr. seems to wanna know too hard what ails me, so, I've been attempting some self-healing. I *did* borrow a few tools, but nothing they wouldn't have handed me if they could have understood what I wanted. The "why" and "how" I'm using the meds seem to be weirding them out, but.. sometimes people know a medicinal use before the drs do, y'know????

I'm dyyyyyyyyyyyyying for some hot McDick's. I could use a sausage and egger; orange juice: tall. Top that with a side of a Teen Burger from A&W's. I can't have it, but, it doesn't mean it wouldn't have been super nice. :D

I can't wait for the nurse who got butthurt by me "helping" to shift change.

I really was feeling muuuuuuuuuch better, when I could still slip out for my smokes. I can feel my sickness attacking. I can't feed it what it wants, nor myself. I could even go for crackers, butter, and 3 orange juices. They're annoyed with me enough I need to wait before I ask for help I actually need...

I hate how polite you have to be, even as you suffer needlessly.

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Circa 2010