story of my life

“are you feverish?  your temperature is 101.9”
”..no?”
“…its 99.7”

“you lost ten pounds in two weeks?  thats kind of unheard of”

“what happens if im allergic to the anesthesia?”
“why would you be?”
“idk, it could happen?  what happens if i wake up during the procedure?”
“you wont”

“hardly anyone dies from this”

“are you scared?  your hearts beating really quickly”
“well i dont want anything to be wrong with me”
“idk about that, but i do know youre not pregnant!”

and then all of a sudden i felt dizzy and my vision cracked into shards of glass, and the next thing i know i was being wheeled back to cubicle 11.  i think said i was cold so she gave me a heated blanket.  then i think i made a comment about how nice it was that it was freshly laundered and warm.  i think she said they keep warmed up blankets.

“dont worry, your stomach is nice and pink like it should be.  see the nice photo?”
“can i keep it?”
 ”why would you want to?”

“can i see *my* pictures?”
“we dont have them..”
“you can see mine!” 

“can i eat now?”
“yes!  eat!”
“in n out?”
“…not in n out”

“dont walk by yourself”
“i am fucken trippiiiin”
“oh lord”

thank you, kaiser, for the great time.  just another day in the life of puja sharma.  there really is no one like me, is there