DAY 8 - Write a letter to your health.
Dear Health,
Who do you think you are? Where are you? On a ten year vacation? I hope you are enjoying the sandy beaches and piña colatas. Or perhaps you are hanging by a rope from the highest mountain known to man. Wherever you are just know I'm here trying to pick up the pieces you've left behind.
I'm so glad that you are having fun while I sit here attached to tubes and swallowing pills. Getting shots and attending endless doctors appointments. While you are off galavanting I am doing everything I can to keep my body from falling apart.
You've left me in a real tizzy here health. My intestines are like a rowdy teenager, not listening to it's parental authority. You are like an older brother who can swoop in and talk some sense into the young with your worldly experience. My blood is like an extreme hoarder. Holding onto all of the door nobs and porcelain cat figurines one house and three storage units can hold. But instead of doors and cats floating around in my blood it's all the iron one person can hold. Health, you are like a counsellor who can talk the hoarder out of mountains and years of treasures. But alas, you are nowhere to be found.
I'm begging you, Health. It's been a long time coming and you've had long enough. When you do decide to return home and get back to your job (if and when that ever happens) I will welcome you with open arms. Until then, enjoy yourself. And hurry home. Pretty pretty please?
Your concerned and somewhat annoyed host,
~Kylee~
P.S. Bring me back a gift. A good one. I deserve it.
