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Fixed — sort of

December 25, 2012

Somehow the strange doctor here fixed me. I don’t get it. I thought it was going to hurt. I mean every time the doctors got me into their hands, they pricked me, poked me, or just hurt me. They would lie and say “this isn’t going to hurt,” and then it would!

But this guy put something on my head and I don’t remember anything. The next thing I know, I am in my own cloths and on my bed. He fixed my lungs and my arm and legs. I didn’t have any cast on! And I didn’t have any bags, that was so bad!

I can’t walk though. I guess he can’t work miracles. I was pretty upset, but then Polly was there. 

I still don’t like it here. I wish I was back home. 


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