Tick tock, tick tock

The walls seem to be creeping inward. 

I still feel decent, am being very well taken care of, and in general am in good spirits. 

The Green & White I've brought with me has had the desired response (an excuse to talk a lot of shit).

Still, the hours crawl. I sleep well, but not for more than a few hours at a time, so I'm up and down all night. I don't mind it. It's nice when it's quiet. 

There is a certain "pace" to this place, that if I couldn't already sense on my own, I'd be reminded of it and told of it daily. I'm told again and again to expect to begin feeling worse and worse in the coming days. The treatments are monotonous and steady. 

Tick tock. 

There is a chart on my wall, updated daily, showing all of my "counts." My bloodwork. 

The steady fall of all of them has begun. When they bottom out, as I'm told repeatedly, I'll feel the worst. 

Tick tock. 

So I'm trying to enjoy the time I'm having now. I walk often. 

I hop on this state of the art stationary bike. 

It's undeniable, the feeling that the walls are creeping in on this already-compact place and that the worst of whatever I'm facing is on it's way. I'm not looking forward to it, but I'm not scared of it. 

The wait is worse than the arrival. 

The "tick tock" going on in my head is worse than my head being above a toilet, getting sick. 

Just get here already. Let's get it over with. 

I've been here....2 days. 

Shit. 

I don't intend to be dramatic. I'm doing okay. I'm not scratching at the doors, begging to get out of here. I'm at peace. 

I'm just inpatient. 

But if this clock keeps ticking, and nothing happens soon, then....

Just kidding. I think. 

Go Green. Beat Air Force.