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NEEDLES & OLIVES 2

1.
Seven days! Seven days in a high-care unit and the voices have started to get louder and more brazen. 
"You're dying faster "
"You left your son alone at home. Irresponsible mother!"
"What did you think was gonna happen?"
"You work too hard for your abilities!" 

There's a distilled water bottle bubbling soothingly above my head. This keeps the oxygen supply from drying up my nose.
It's sounding less like a pond and more like a damning cauldron. 


2. 
The initial pneumonia infection that brought me here has since been zapped by various antibiotics. What remains are the effects. Lungs are balloons, but that doesn't mean they ought to stay inflated. But not mine, nah ah. Mine got carried away and now their inflated all the way up, making it hard to bring in some new air to, you know, continue breathing. 

3.
A scan, an x-ray, antidepressants and a cocktail of life-keeper pills later, we see the way. 
I need to stay indoors. 
Indoors? Silently. Me? 
Never!
Let's fight, AIR! Not happening!
If I rudeky move away from you while you cough, please understand. I'm fighting with air. It's everywhere. 

Bless. 

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