Living Room Table Monday, November 12th 2018.
Now when I give up my blood, I get a nice bruise as a remembrance of where I was the day before. Again a small price to pay for the piece of mind that follows a visit where the doctor says something as soothing as “no noticeable change” which is enough to make me want to dance on a table (if it wasn’t for the fact that I only have a half of a functioning lung to work with). I would be out of breath trying to climb onto the table and if I did not immediately fall off of it, would defiantly need assistance getting down.
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