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I’m back at the hospital. We thought that this was going to be a weekly thing,
but it appears that I’m going to have to incorporate it into my daily
schedule. It’s a lot of work for Kelly, so I’m giving her a raise. It’s not
like I can’t afford it. I’ll be dead soon, and any money left over is going to
go to charity since I have literally no next of kin on Earth. Researchers want
to poke and prod me as much as they can before I kick the bucket. I have
always been a supporter of science, so if I have to suffer for a few weeks to
help the world better understand how prions work, then I’m gonna do it with no
complaints. I do have a line, though. I’ll still be living at home. That is
nonnegotiable. I recognize and appreciate the importance of this research.
Nonetheless, I’m entitled to die with at least a little bit of dignity, and
some approximation of comfort. Kelly and I agree to go into the facility once
a day for a minimum of two hours, but a maximum of five hours. Anything beyond
that is too much for me to handle. However, like I said, I’ll be dead soon,
and when that happens, they can do whatever they want with my body for however
long. The hospital will be in charge of however that works. But it has nothing
to do with me; I don’t need anything special to be done with my remains. I
know, this has all been so depressing. Maybe I’ll try to write something a bit
lighter tomorrow. Maybe.
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