4:15 A.M. It's been a long 48 hours. The infection from my pacemaker surgery has gone ballistic. I wish I could tell you the pain doesn't hurt, but I'd be lying. A large infectious blend of pus and tiny bubbles has emerged from my skin. Price has a toll to pay, even when you're not going through the toll booths. Don't mind me. I just had to turn off the news. My mind wonders in this hospital room. Again. The door has been left open from the nurse who has just redressed my wound. All I know is that it's going to be a long day. The breakfast was really bad. A lot worse than the dinner I had last night. The eggs were powdered, the jelly on my toast was surgar-free and the coffee was decaf. Thank God for the regular I grabbed from the nurses earlier. The smiles are hearty and the walks are brisk. The clock in front of me on the wall is moving like a second hand in slow motion. I hear the talk of nurses and so forth down the hall. The sun is new and gleaming through onto my notebook as I write. It's a nice day. The code orange that was called out on the intercom system minutes ago, has been cleared. The only dominate sound in my room is the sound of AC coming in through the vents. It's cold.
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