What can I say that would be different than yesterday?
I can watch television for an hour before the drugs knock me out.
Adults tell me I “look” better. Look better than what they won’t say.
Children refuse to look me in the face.
I have not cooked since sushi on Saturday. This makes me sad.
The pain is less. This makes me happy and lets me know the medicine is doing something.
The swelling is about the same, just in different location on the side of my face.
I feel “better.” Better than I did yesterday, but not better than before this happened.
I got a new stikbot and a stuffed octopus to keep me company while I sleep like a cat for most of the day. This is how I know I am sick, when adults bring me toys from the store.
If some locals show up at the door brandishing torches and pitchforks demanding the monster be brought out, I know who they are asking for and that they are at the right door.