ONE HUNDRED AND TWO.

THREE DAYs LATER.

The hospital finally discharged me from their care earlier this morning. They had requested that I stay an extra night for observation, as the burning sensation in my abdomen became unbearable to deal with the day after surgery.

Overall, it turned out that I was having phantom pains from a previous surgery that I had to undergo ten years prior.

The specialist informed me to take things slowly as it will take longer for me to recover than expected.

Instructions I have always found hard to abide by.

I despise the thought of my body being weak all over again.

I hate feeling like a burden.

Sipping on a steamy cup of herbal tea, I sit on the outdoor sofa at the back of Aunt Mae's house on the deck, looking up at the sky.

The sun is starting to set, casting beautiful hues of fire across the horizon. This has become my all-time favourite spot and time of day.

It is enthralling, and spellbinding in its ability to bring me some measure of calm within myself, while