Another Day in Gitmo

Let's see, sleep deprivation - check. Uncontrollable light and dark - check. Horrible food - check. Cruel tricks like giving me almost enough IV tubing to reach the toilet, but not quite enough - check. Long stretches without human contact or love - check. Morphine on demand - check. But wait. That changes everything.

My last 24 hours consisted of short stretches of dozing before being roused to take various measurements. A short period of feeling absolutely marvelous leading to the mistaken hope that I could blow this pop-stand come morning. What actually awaited me come morning was a splitting headache accompanied by chills. So much for going home.

I met with a new doc today who looked like something right out of a charles addams drawing. He was tall, thin - approaching cadaverous, and wore his black hair split up the middle and splayed to the sides as though styled by an axe. I am assured that he is brilliant and an expert in his field which is the study of lungers and other excretions that emanate from the lungs. I actually kind of liked him, but then again I am a big fan of charles addams.

I had another C T scan of the lungs an hour ago but the results are not in. Sometime in the near future I get to participate in some enhanced sputal ballistics in an attempt to get a gob of goo to travel from my lungs to a specimen cup without getting contaminated. I'll let you know how that goes.