I think I now know why we used to be so keen to keep disease out. I’m not used to pain. I don’t want another week like this last one. I’d swear it was worse this time than when I was originally hurt. I suppose then I was so out of it that I didn’t really notice it so much. But this is odd: they’ve taken a perfectly healthy person and made them sick.
It really, really hurt. And they wouldn’t let me have anything for the pain. That was the point, they said. I need to feel the pain so that I learn from my own body. Of course, what they have done is cut into me – and that bit’s sore – then rummaged around inside – I feel bruised inside – and then there’s left what should have been there before.
Never mind! Today I am up and dressed. Up! That’s a joke. I can hardly stand, and moving is painful. They’re making me do it though, step by step. And I am in my own clothes.
I’m to have a visitor this afternoon. Louish Kennedy is coming to see me. I really like that woman. I just hope I don’t break down in front of her. I’m curious to know what she thinks of what Kaleem has done. I can’t expect her to be on my side. I do like her. Just a pity she’s Kaleem’s grandmother. We’re going to have to talk about him. If only I could just talk to her as a friendly person. Because, that’s what she is. Not Kaleem’s grandmother. Not the attachment of an elder.
My mother wants to come. I’ve still said no. I won’t listen to what she says about Kaleem.