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I can barely breathe. Who put these needles in my lungs, and why is my skin trying to crawl away? I ran out of pills and elixirs; more have arrived, but I don't know if they made it in time. I can't go to the hospital for too many reasons. The pain, the labor, they make it hard to have a normal, non-distorted face, and only being in a room of guys made my pride apparent enough to hold back the tears. I may have to go. Cameron prevails.