I upset a little girl yesterday. And by little girl I mean, you know, someone in her 20s.

Now I am just lying here twitching and farting.

Without you guys, all I have is this gas.

O heartburn, must you court me like this?

Cough-syrup shots: because I know how to party on Saturday night.

Side effects that no medication should potentially cause: “changes in the shape or location of body fat, especially in your arms, legs, face, neck, breasts and waist.”

I am learning to love people despite their failings, but I am also learning to speak up when people need to be called out for those failings.

Would I change my life? No. But I would do it again.

I think today is starting with a trip to the ER. I read the label on my medicine, and it says to seek help immediately for nausea and vision problems. I’ve had nausea since yesterday, and this morning everything has haloes around it.

Now all the letters have haloes around them. I always knew words were angelic.

Pretty soon crows will be using my exposed ribs as perches, and my fingers will still be wrapped around this Galaxy III trying to convey the experience on Facebook—one consciousness reaching out to many.

There is this feeling in my stomach like driving on a gravel road at Lake Texoma. There is also this feeling of a rod shoved through my gut, as if I am reenacting Frida Kahlo’s bus accident.

My neighbor who wished me dead back in June must be feeling pretty satisfied with himself right now.

If they take me off the medicine that seems to be killing me, my lungs will shut down and I will die anyway. I don’t know what to do.

This new level of suffering is teaching me a great deal, both about the ways in which others with these types of conditions suffer and also about suffering in general. I am grateful to have these insights.

My dog might be throwing up under the covers right now. I’m afraid to look.