I now have wireless.
Dinner was ok for me.
But I think it wasn't anything great.
I'm too tired to cook proper.
It's 7.35 pm and I am resisting the urge to sleep!
So instead, I take another zantac (gastric comes with all food I eat now) and look forward to the coming day which will bring hospital tidings. It will be rainy tomorrow, and so the figure waiting and sitting at the bus stop will be clad in gortex. I hate food now. It makes me sick, literally. Eat less, more zantac. But I can't. Zantac is 2 a day, maximum, and food is apparantly compulsory (not to me). Fine, eat I will.

Drearily, my hospital is next to a cemetary. How convenient! Just die and dump. DD, new hearse slogan. I find it freakishly eerie how uncaring infrastructure can be. The gastric is getting worse. I try to watch Frasier instead.

Smirnoff and whisky on tv. I wonder if alcohol will make me less bloated. It's always worked for cramps but I figure they are not the same thing. Anyways, water is best.

My stomach feels like it's filled with air (wish it was helium, then I could fly to work). It hurts, and I still can't fly.

Oh shut up, Sara. How bad can it be?