So, in a few hours I have another trache change, and I’m nervous about it. I’m always nervous.
I tried talking to Sara, but, silence. I shouldn’t have tried, but I guess I couldn’t not. She’s always been my last thought in the O.R. before the drugs take me happily away. I wish I hadn’t been such a fuck up, but I can’t go back. No one can go back. I’m not strong, or brave, and I hate that I’m not. I should have been better, but I wasn’t.
I want to wake up in that druggy bliss, but if I don’t, that’d be okay. I’m really tired.1 comment
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