Well, I don't think that there's anything wrong with my chest.

I got an x-ray last Friday morning, before I went to school.

I hate hospitals. Well, it's not so much that I hate them it's...well, I don't really know what it is.

I'm not exactly /afraid/ of hospitals. I don't really hate them, either, because I know what's being done to me is ultimately going to help me in the end.

But when I go to hospitals or to the docters, I cry. I cry and cry and cry. I don't know why I cry.

I mean, the docters are very nice and understanding.

The last two times I went to the docters, I didn't cry.

Almost did last time, but I didn't.

I was determined not to cry at the hospital last week, but I did anyway. I cried and cried. I closed all the stalls in the changing place where I was pacing because I couldn't stand to see myself cry.

I cried halfway to school, too.

Didn't cry at school, though, because school isn't a hospital, now, is it.

But anyway, I have to head back to History last.

Adieu, mes amies, 'til we speak again.

.

Rosie.

Before&After