Biohazard

So I left the house . . . I had to go buy more popscicles and Puffs since no one left any on the porch. No one really ran and hid their faces, though there was this toddler who was looking at me funny, but I think that was just because of the mouth breathing (or mouf breafing, as I now say it).

The newest pain extravanganza feels as though someone has slammed a fork through the roof of my mouth and just left the fork there. Oh, and I can feel the splints now. The store was okay as long as I held onto the cart . . . kind of like when I would bring my grandmother to the store, who really needed a walker, and I would prop her up with a cart. So I propped myself up on a cart and purchased popscicles.

I also bought the large pack of Clorox wipes, as I am one giant biohazard. I have managed to get my medications on a six hour schedule, so I will be involuntarily passing out in about 15 minutes. My pain meds have to be refilled at Beaumont, so I guess I will be exploring the hospital tomorrow . . . and they said people went back to work the next day. They so lied. Because the people I work with care that I'm coughing up blood and they don't want me to be at work like that. Gotta go get another wipe.