The Cure

The nurse scans my vitals, and performs a daily blood pressure check; together we scrutinize my  skin for abrasions, rashes, – anything that looks out of the ordinary. People remark its repetitive, beginning the day this way, but it’s nothing compared to the monotonous existence I inhabited before the trial. Pain and disability has a way of souring life.  It’s like having to drink your tea cold all the time.

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