The road to recovery is slow and painful. The familiar headache of fever pounds if I turn my head in the wrong direction, moving my eyes to far to one side is agonizing. I haven't eaten too much in three days save a bagel or two and a sandwich. I'm stiff all over.

Nevertheless, I've got about 3000 milligrams of amoxicillin in me already, and I begin to feel better. Larkin is my best friend- Larkin and this box of anesthetic lozenges (which expired six years ago, but fuck, whatever has dyclonine). As long as I keep this cold rag on my forehead, my brain shouldn't melt from the fever. I'm not dizzy anymore. I did eat a half a bagel this morning, and unlike at dinner last night, I was not struck with dizziness, and I did not nearly lose consciousness. Things are looking up.

I hope to all that is powerful in this world that I'm better tomorrow. I'm dying to see Larkin again, yet I cannot make myself sociable in my hour of rejuvination. I can only sleep and take cold showers.