Here I sit, looking out of three huge bay windows at several buildings of Forsyth Hospital and at the sun that's rising.
It's 7am.
Today my grandfather goes in for fairly simple heart surgery, only 1 out of 100 people die. Please don't be the one.
Somehow he managed to weasel his way to second on the list of getting surgery this morning. So I guess they'll take him about nine. He's been here since Friday and of course without his cigarettes he's going crazy and driving everyone else the same.
If anything, at least he has a damn good view for a hospital room.
The sky is red now.
Sailors be warned.
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