The Story Of Eggs
My brain feels like molasses; like brown sugary goo. I don’t feel the sense of euphoria I expected or was described to me in this “honeymoon period” of my surgery. In fact, if I had to describe it, I’d say … Continue reading →
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My brain feels like molasses; like brown sugary goo. I don’t feel the sense of euphoria I expected or was described to me in this “honeymoon period” of my surgery. In fact, if I had to describe it, I’d say … Continue reading →
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