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Day T-6 - Delhi
There seems to be a lot of shouting coming from outside my window. Either there is maintenance going on or the hospital has realised how grossly underutilised the roof space is and has created a new ward out there populated by the most vocal patients. The hands of the clock draw slowly around its face, 40 hours on the same piece of furniture, surely a new personal record. My new(er) wheelchair (freshly pilfered from the 3rd floor, kudos Attendant) stands forlorn and empty. All pleas for early release on the grounds of good behaviour have been flatly denied. It might be just me but the less you can do for yourself the less of a person you actually feel. I sit up, I lie down, 90 degrees of movement, 6 degrees of separation  from the person you were. All high melodrama really but also an injection of sensation into a vacuum of stimuli.
Anyway the doctors came and unwrapped my leg after 46 hours, a slow roast if ever there were one. For those of you more concerned with my physical health than the tiresome verbosity of my mental wellbeing they were pleased with what they saw (though,and to paraphrase, only a physician could love that leg). So...another milestone, back to a healthy quantity of holes in my body (9). I try not to look too far down the road of recovery because it seems awfully long and doesn't appear to be bending in a direction entirely favourable to my wilder ambitions. But somehow, in some part of my head, and I can't really explain this, i'm already standing at the end of that road, about to take a fearless and unhindered step. It' already happened because it will happen and each second that passes will be forgotten,will cease to be a meaningful unit of time or at best will be compressed and packaged up into a tidy memory of 'The time I fell off a train'. Time is relative, i'm sure someone smarter than me said that once.     

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