Hospitalised

When I got back from watching Cavalia and having dinner with Clar, my Mum noticed something strange about my ankles - they were really, really swollen. She told my Dad and they started freaking out, crying and arguing and stuff. Apparently, it meant there was something wrong with my liver...? The next day, I took the morning off work and went to see the doctor. He took one look at my ankle then told me to take three days sick leave, go home and rest, and report back to him in three days.

I wasn't really freaking out by then. The three days off of work just felt like a relaxing vacation for me because I had been so stressed. But when I went back to the doctor after my "break" and my body hadn't gotten better - about what, I did not know, because I felt completely normal and fine - I was pushed into the hospital that afternoon.

That was when I began to panic. My doctor made it sound like my liver was going to explode soon or something. I probably shouldn't talk about it in such a jokey manner on my (public) blog but I basically went crazy. I thought I was going to die and you know how convicts get to request anything for their last meal before they're executed? I decided I needed to eat my last meal...

I went crazy that day. And since I stuffed such an inhumane amount of food into my body (I ate more than what was pictured cos I was so scared I'd never be able to eat again), I spent the whole night not in my hospital bed but on the hospital toilet, LOL.

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