Dear Diary,
This week has been tough on me, and not just physically. I do not feel at home in this hospital, and I've been separated from the world of literature for too long. In the midst of my desperation, I've even gone so far as to replace the comforting wit of the great John Donne with my own fabricated puns and plays on words, if that gives you any idea how I'm doing.
The doctors have put me on the full doses of medicine for this cancer treatment. It is certainly teaching me a thing or two about humility. I have a theory that eventually I'm going to puke my brains out, and the vultures that I call colleagues will seize the opportunity to advance their own positions, perhaps through a commemorative combination of their works. I will be on the edge of my seat waiting for that publication.
After such a long day at the hospital I feel more like a petri dish that a person. As well meaning as he is, Jason's poking and prodding and his attempt to display me to his fellow doctors is stressing me out all the more. I'm also a little bit concerned that I'm on the highest dosage possible for the medicine because of Jason's ego, not to better my health.
I was put in an isolation room because my immune system is affected by the treatment. Just when I was reaching a fascinating point in my lecture in the isolation room, Susie hauled me off for more tests. What can I say, I just love how those tests make me feel!
Finally, I'd like to share with you something I learned today. The cancerous cells in my body can keep replicating themselves. Those cells are basically immortal, whereas I may only have a few days left to live. That sure puts things into perspective.
Sincerely,
Vivian
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