You are too tired to lift an eating utensil. Eating has become a chore you need to do, but not that you want. However, as you scarf down a bowl of fruit your sister has brought up to your door, you realize it is the best thing you've tasted in forever, and that you are, in fact, hungry. Sadly, you have to rest for a while between bites because you really are that tired.
You start to wonder if this is really some kind of hazing ritual, and you don't really have cancer--they just want to see how long you can hold out with a quarantine of 6 ft. and severe hypothyroidism.
You are too tired to read or even watch tv, but your body aches so you cannot actually sleep. You don't want to talk to anyone as your moods flail wildly and your tears would be extra radioactive, so they rather you don't cry if you can help it. Also, talking requires energy, and you don't have any.
You are back in the bath, praying for the thyroid meds you get tomorrow, and again wondering when the bathroom clock stopped at 9:43 and you've missed it for how long now?
And you kind of wish not to feel your left foot again like it was after surgery, as it is the one that won't stop throbbing and let you sleep. You are stuck playing Draw Something with random strangers as it is all you have left--that or dominoes because endless counting to fives is easy...
Is it morning yet?
1 comment:
Oh Taunja......to be told not to cry because your tears are radioactive is just beyond imagining. You are so young to be facing all this. I'm hoping that foot stops throbbing.
You are loved.
Corban misses your treat bag and you.
Post a Comment