This is good.
I don't know how it is possible that you are as lucid and up to tricks as you are (considering what you went through less than twenty four hours ago).
You'reTom.
Tom without a voice.
A little buzzed.
Trying to get at your tubes and bandages.
Taking my hand and kissing it as if to apologize.
A broad sweeping aplogy.
For this. For everything.
It's ok.
I love you.
Six weeks minimum.
Ok?
Can you stand it?
The fact that you can't will be meaningful in your progress.
You are a fighter.
I've heard it a million times. I've said it a million times.
You mouthed it a couple of days ago. Get me out of here.
We're working on it, baby.
That's the thing.
You will live to tell the tale.
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