Fucking hell. I can only eat after taking painkillers. Cloudy apple juice, plain yoghurt and honey, liquidised soup. I want TOAST! I want dark chocolate, straight from the fridge so I have to chunk it off with my back teeth. Melted butter, hot milk, glutinous bread sticking to my teeth.
Sitting in bed with my jaw pushed forward. It’s weird not having an overbite. None of my teeth meet. Taptaptaptap tapping my front teeth will have to do.
There is Belladonna on the table by my bed. And cups and bowls on the floor. A bottle of prescription-labelled pills. They look so ugly, blue lines and grey printed words and yellow lines.
Some other sweet white pill to put under my tongue every two hours. Ecinachea for immune system. Orange juice for recovery. Hot chocolate for my flagging morale.
Suddenly dozing, drifting off. Time is moving in odd ways. This song has been playing for hours, this minute has lasted for days. Melting away. I feel hot and feeble and cranky. All my chin wobbles every time I move.
I had a dream I was choking up blood clots. I had a dream I was coughing up droplets of blood, splashing in perfect circles on the tiled bathroom floor. How poetic. Reminds me of a song, but I couldn’t say which.