Keep that arm still.

I get my own room, with a small tv on an arm that hangs over my head.

I read, watch inane tv, and get stuff drip, drip, dripped into my arm.

I had a bad reaction.  I went into shock.

(I read everything that I can when it comes to me.  I start with the doctor's literature, work my way down, then read case studies.  Its not any sort of hypochondriasis, or neurotic anxiety bug.  I just believe that within fifty to one-hundred years, the present state of medicine will be regarded for its barbarisim, innaccuracies and breakthroughs all the same, rather than just lauding accomplishments as they do now.

I also have a conviction that things will eventually be solved by pills and infusions, and lately have wondered about something else.

I just have this weird suspicion, especially on days one just does not feel up to par, that there is this certain warm, moist, multi-flavored gas or essence one could inhale, manufactured from dna and such, and be refreshed.

Huff.  Huff.  Ready to go.)

Medical terminology has several layers of precision, and I think the term "shock" isn't entirely accurate, though perhaps applicable to what occurred.

And breathing became impossible.  Like my lung capacity was rapidly diminishing.

I really had trouble breathing by then.  Odd.  If that's what its like to have eymphasema, then I am quite glad I quit smoking, even though I miss my smokes.

I was already on benadryl.

They started the medicine again eventually, and ten hours after I started, I drove home.