Now starts the 4am vital checks, the 5am chemo, the 7am litany of invasive questions. Being tied to a pole by an angry stab in the arm. You don't get privacy, time or dignity. If you're lucky, you just get out.
It's their antiseptic prison, I'm just living in it. If you call this living.
Some day I guess I'll be grateful I'm not dead.
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