It's back! It's back! An amateur writer who is not popular, and the cutie who loves to make it is back!

I had surgery because I had a serious illness.

During the hospitalization, my mother reluctantly watched the doctor carry me into the operating room on a stretcher, and touched her hand, which was ten times more cold than mine, and her whole face was bloodless.

However, I also understood that the original pale face was waxy yellow, just like firewood, which was considered to have experienced the real family affection in the world, and realized that the original self was so lucky.

When the door of the operating room is still a radiation-proof stainless steel door, it opens automatically layer after layer, just like a big battle like a concubine entering the palace.

Originally, I was a very death-scared person, and when I was in junior high school, I wanted to commit suicide by jumping off a building in my class corridor or classroom because of school violence.

But fear of heights saved me, and at that time I was afraid of height, but I was not afraid of death.

But how can a person who wants to commit suicide be afraid of heights?

I still wanted to live, but when I entered the operating room, I wanted to die on the operating table in the face of the high cost of surgery and the later medical expenses.

But the doctors and nurses are very professional, and a cutie who is as good as ever is back.

At that time, the operation was under local anesthesia, there was no pain, but there was consciousness, and the doctor played Beethoven's march, the music was high, and by the way, he talked about home and tourist attractions, food and love.

They diverted all my nervousness, but I couldn't close my eyes, my mouth closed, and I couldn't sleep, and I listened to their words and had a lot of thoughts.

The night after the operation, the anesthetic subsided, and it turned out that the operation would not be painful, but the real pain was when the anesthetic disappeared.

I was in pain, and I couldn't move when I wanted to, because the wound would start to bleed, but unfortunately I was unlucky enough to move in pain, and I still started to bleed.

The nurse's sister changed the gauze again and again, and in the middle of the night, she started a drip, painkillers and hemostatic drugs.

I hung the bottle nine times in one day, and the blood from the early needle on my hand coagulated, and a new needle came in.

Hanging bottles is really a thing that consumes people's time and willpower, and at most 14 bottles are hung, anyway, they are fixed in the hospital bed all day, and they are consumed for hours and hours.

So getting sick is really scary, and don't delay a minor illness into a major illness and then go for treatment.

However, the doctor can cure us for physical diseases, but it is difficult to treat psychological diseases.

In the past few days, I have been lying in bed, thinking motionlessly about writing and making money, a little uncomfortable, but there is no way.

Tomorrow, I will speed up the completion of this book, and maybe I will continue to write the book after writing, or maybe I will find the motivation to support myself to live strongly.