The worst thing is how smells will stay with you--like they somehow bonded themselves to the cells lining the insides of your nose. The other day, the dirtiest, smelliest guy ever came up to the register that I was on and the new girl decided that she had to have a conversation with him so that he wouldn't leave. I think I vomited a bit in my mouth. Although, that's not the smell stuck in my head today. I can't get the smell of the hospital to go away.

I've meant to write in one of many journals the last few days about this, but I really start then just stop. Before going out on my birthday, I got a call from the mother and she checked herself into the hospital to get some testing done. [She'd been sore for about a week and, over that week, became progressively weaker, while her muscles started to not only be sore but also painfully achey.] They have no idea what's wrong with her, so they've been prodding and poking her like crazy. There was a muscle biopsy today that left a pretty ugly patch of gauze on her arm.

Just odd. Completely odd. Hospitals make me increasingly uncomfortable and I feel like The Worst Human Alive sitting there and waiting to leave. But not really, you know? You want to leave, but sitting isn't bad and talking isn't bad. But it's that whole not talking about the pink elephant in the room. What's worse is hearing any sort of nervousness coming out of her mouth--no thanks.


Birthday speak will come later. Can't seem to get into it, although it was a lovely day. Absolutely fantastic. Too much else on my mind right now, I suppose.