It's all right. Just get some sleep.

Promise me you'll be healthier.
it is my high school friend who is chatting with me on the screen.
We all like to call her fried hair, because her hair is so thick and fluffy, much like the hairy lion at the beginning of the MGM movie.
it is impolite to call a girl "hair-blowing" now, but she was never annoyed and enjoyed it.
but not long ago, because she was ill and needed chemotherapy, she lost her hair so badly that she simply shaved it all.
when she shared it with me, I was crying secretly in the hospital bed under the curtain.
I am also sick, a disease similar to hers.
my friends who know me well know that I have been in the hospital three times in half a year.
Last time, it was because of sudden palpitations. I also wrote that I was 20 years old. It was time to write a suicide note and encourage people to live to death.
now it seems that I lost my life a little early.
Last month I found a cyst in my body, which was already the size of a duck's egg and had to be removed by surgery.
but this time I am rational.
I checked each link beforehand, and estimated the pain value that each link can produce.
in view of my three experiences, I have easily learned the best way to get along with health care workers, that is, "try to shut up and answer questions only".
I think I am excellent, calm and calm.
but I'm still crying like a dog in the curtain.
because I was not very decent just now, the catheter was loose.
the mattress is wet, which is beyond my imagination.
A northeast woman has just moved in next door. She won't have surgery until the day after tomorrow, so she is now enjoying happy fried chicken.
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and I, Rice Congee, added salt and drank it for a week.
so I had to learn from this high school friend, whose illness is similar to mine, but much worse than mine.
I think she has a way to despise me, find out these trivial hypocrisy, and finally make me happy.
but I found that she was not on the same circuit with me at all. Speaking of hair loss, the hair burst hit eight "ha" on the screen.
she said that the problem of leg hair, which had been troubling her for a long time, was gone. In those days, the legs were white and clean.
I laughed with tears closed.
my mother was talking to a woman in the northeast outside the curtain and asked her what kind of surgery she was going to do.
she said her ovaries were broken and cut everything.
my mother asked, "cut how much"
"cut all."
then I heard the sound of separation between crispy crust and chicken.
I don't think they feel that eating fried chicken and paying attention to their smooth legs are diverting their emotions and forcing themselves to be happy.
they just think it's over and don't eat for nothing.
to put it bluntly, optimism.
the optimism I understood before is based on my control over something.
two.
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otherwise, listen to the song I sent you tonight, in which Eason Chan is singing.
ask two questions:
did you star us?