Today I woke up with one of those something seems wrong feelings.
I am tired of tired. My world orbits around a pile of pills and Ned the neb. Seems like every time I turn around, one or the other needs attention. A little extra sick on the side only emphasizes how timed my waking hours are. Then like a stack of dominoes lined up for the big finale, gloom grabs hold for its share and the whole me topples. I am edging closer all the time.
I am afraid I will have to call Doc on Monday. I finished the abx and albuterol today. I have another week of prednisone. I think the infection left; however, the residual leaves me gasping.
Pogo sits beside the mouse on my desk as I write. His eyes slowly close and his head lowers. I think bedtime draws near.
Later, Dude.
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