I’m not that sick, really, just enough for it to be inconvenient and unending. It won’t kill me any faster than boredom will, so it’s not so bad. I will always set the reality of it aside and frame it so my power is mine and not my illness. Fine, I’ll go for another ultrasound. Fine, take another six vials of blood, fine, fine, fine, fine. Great, now you want X-rays? But can I keep on my Agent Provacateur?