worry

I worry. Who doesn’t? I worry that my liver will never be normal again. I worry that my eyesight is failing me. That some nerve somewhere is irreplaceably damaged and I haven’t discovered it yet. I worry that one day I’ll go completely deaf. I worry whenever I get itchy bites. Was it by a mosquito? More specifically, an Aedes mosquito? Will I get dengue again and start all that needle poking all over again? I worry. Who doesn’t? But then, night falls and my head throbs and I start to see floaters. That definitely isn’t a good sign. So then I stop worrying and creep back to bed because only then, in la la land, do I break free from all worries and sleep them all away until I’m ready to fight them all over again the next day. Nite. Sleep tight.