[For Clinic Visitors] Dated 15 July 2011
Feeling physically bad was not something I was used to. As a teenager, I'd had my wisdom teeth out, and once when I was about twelve, I'd gotten a really nasty case of the flu. There had been a few times when I'd had a cough or the sniffles, but for the most part I was lucky enough to have lived both of my lives healthy. I wasn't used to my body failing me.
The cast had been set on my right forearm, but I was still in the clinic for another few days for basic recovery. I hadn't argued; the clinic nanobots had mended the outside of my arm, but the inside still had awhile to go, and the surgery needed to reset the bone had sapped me of energy. Being confined to the bed became increasingly more irritating, though, and I'd convinced the medical staff to let me take my own shower, promising to take care, keep my cast dry and call if I needed help. I'd managed it like I swore I could, but it had taken me well over an hour from start to finish, and by the time I plodded back to my clinic bed, I was well-scrubbed but exhausted.
Sitting on the edge of my bed, I began trying to untangle my wet hair with the brush that Jess had brought up for me two days earlier. I'd not broken a brush on my hair the entire time I'd been on the island, but I was frustrated enough by then that had I been anything but pitifully weak, I know I would have snapped the handle right off of that one. As it was, I would struggle with it a little, take a long pause to catch my breath, and then begin the cycle over again.
[Regarding injuries: She has her right arm in a cast in a sling (she's trying to brush her hair with the left) and bruises of various sizes all over her body, the most notable of which are a large, livid bruise across her right cheekbone, and some really big, ugly ones along the right side of her back (although those are covered). Any scratches were healed by the nanobots.]
The cast had been set on my right forearm, but I was still in the clinic for another few days for basic recovery. I hadn't argued; the clinic nanobots had mended the outside of my arm, but the inside still had awhile to go, and the surgery needed to reset the bone had sapped me of energy. Being confined to the bed became increasingly more irritating, though, and I'd convinced the medical staff to let me take my own shower, promising to take care, keep my cast dry and call if I needed help. I'd managed it like I swore I could, but it had taken me well over an hour from start to finish, and by the time I plodded back to my clinic bed, I was well-scrubbed but exhausted.
Sitting on the edge of my bed, I began trying to untangle my wet hair with the brush that Jess had brought up for me two days earlier. I'd not broken a brush on my hair the entire time I'd been on the island, but I was frustrated enough by then that had I been anything but pitifully weak, I know I would have snapped the handle right off of that one. As it was, I would struggle with it a little, take a long pause to catch my breath, and then begin the cycle over again.
[Regarding injuries: She has her right arm in a cast in a sling (she's trying to brush her hair with the left) and bruises of various sizes all over her body, the most notable of which are a large, livid bruise across her right cheekbone, and some really big, ugly ones along the right side of her back (although those are covered). Any scratches were healed by the nanobots.]