I seriously assumed everyone born in the 1920's was dead. Do they have rehab for not being good at math?
After my fun adventures in Los Angeles, I lost all feeling in my legs and reentered the hospital because I just missed Jello too damn much. After five days of testing me for scary diseases and finding GREY MATTER ON MY BRAIN (something I haven't googled JK I'm mostly gonna be fine), I was discharged into a rehabilitation hospital to try and fix my stupid garbage body.
I go to therapy for three hours a day and I hate it so much I have cried six times today. My legs are amazing at being useless right now. I feel like Jason Street at the beginning of Friday Night Lights which shows how fucking dramatic I am because he was like, paralyzed forever, and I'm hopefully gonna walk out of here in ten days.
I don't want to whine but this is the WORST SUMMER EVER. I have been to the beach once. I have swam in the ocean zero. I have cried like every day.
And tonight for dinner I ate applesauce, which I have deemed the least scary food here. This is because it's made by Mott's.
Let me just say the PC stuff: I am really lucky not to be 99 and here, because I would be so pissed off they were making me walk after I had survived like 7 wars and so many presidential scandals.
I am also very grateful to have family and friends who want to visit this octogenarian nightmare. This place is straight up reeking of age. At night the walls whisper "Mr. A died in that bed, you know..."
My roommate is 87 and she tells everyone how she's gonna be 88 in October. She is really focused on making it to 88 so we're all pulling for her. We are about equal in terms of strength. We also both have dentures but I don't want to talk about it. She has terrible hearing so the TV, which is always fucking on, is on volume level 85 the entire day. I'm wearing two pairs of headphones on top of my ears right now to deal--OMG, guys, she's praying out loud right now before bedtime. I am such a jerk.
Anyway I actually really like Margo and I hope we become friends by the time one of us leaves, but right now I'm at the stage in my inspirational film where I am cranky and young. LifeTime will soon air The Kelly Bergin Story so keep your eyes peeled.
It's past 9 which is an hour past my bedtime, so I must go. I need at least 16 hours of sleep these days. Three hours of therapy will definitely take it out of you.
Thanks for all the support and please stop Instagramming about the beautiful weather. I wish humidity and bad hair for every one of you at the beach.