Slowtown

5

Everything since this morning has been such an anxious haze, I wish I would just pass out already. Actually, not a bad idea, but does it make sense for your brain to will itself to stop working? No, Tyler, you just want to deny being able to act rationally, so you're trying to stop your brain from processing things. Sure, blame it on your mental illness, that's a good reason, that'll make it better. I just don't like dealing with things, okay? Sorry.

Deep in a conversation with myself, I'm pulled back into the moment when a woman enters the room wearing sterile gloves, a stethoscope looped around the back of her neck, the whole look. So she is a doctor, but really, she chooses to make a DIY hospital out of her own hovel? That's not sketchy or anything. She immediately kneels in front of me and says, "You're very pale, and sweating a lot," putting her hand to my forehead. I almost ask for some identification that gives her the right to make that diagnosis, but I find that I can't because my throat is so damn dry.

"I don't think he has any injuries," what's-his-name says, and then I almost ask him just how much medical expertise he thinks he has.

"Josh, you know I still need to check. And get off the bed so he can lie down."

He- Josh says okay, and the woman pushes back my shoulder, but the motion makes me wanna throw up-

"He looks like he's gonna throw up!"

"He might." Don't encourage me!

Saliva fills my mouth, but nothing from my stomach comes up. Hot flashes are plaguing me, and a migraine is growing in the front of my head. I can't push through it all, I can't speak, my throat feels like it's clogged with glue. This is the worst flurry of sickness I've ever experienced, and I'd like to thank my weak ass immune system for that. Okay, okay, if I just focus on breathing I'll be fine. And I see that breath by quaking, heaving breath, it's actually working, and I'm making myself stable again. Still, the migraine grows.

I'm aware that Josh is holding something by my face, but doesn't he see that I can't take it because I'm currently suffering? I guess he does actually, because he decides to hold my head up and give it to me himself. Holding it to my lips, it's just water, but I glug it down like it's the cool elixir of life. This is heaven. I love water. I bet if everyone drank this all the time there'd be total world peace.