Friday, April 25, 2008


Not as bad as last time, but still not something I'd recommend. Although I intellectually understand, I cannot viscerally understand how people can become addicted to morphine, surgery, or percocet.

As I was waking up, the nurses found that my heart rate and blood oxygen levels were ok while they were talking to me, and dipped too low when I was left alone. So they had me recite poetry.

This post's theme word: farrago, "a mixture of things."

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