Ayshela Posted October 28, 2005 Report Share Posted October 28, 2005 I'm icy cold. Inside, outside, there is no difference now. I've kept you pushed away as breath is forced from ragged to smooth. Easy now. My grip eases as a shallow breath flows gently through, giving me one moment of peace before I pay for inattention. My grip has eased. Now icicle tendrils twine through my aching chest, still quivering from spasms, and again I begin to cough. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Finnius Posted October 28, 2005 Report Share Posted October 28, 2005 Well that ain't good. Erm... the bronchitis, not the poem. The poem was quite good. Shuffle yerself off ta bed, or the doctor, or both, or either! Or something! *falls on his face* Don't make me come down there. I *will* bring soup. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Ayshela Posted October 29, 2005 Author Report Share Posted October 29, 2005 heh.. been to the doc, got more antibiotics and my inhalers upped again, and am being kicked upstairs to the specialist. the verdict - i'll live, the pneumonia's cleared. *huggles* Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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