11/12/1998
	I hate hospitals. I am too weak to be around them. I have a soul that is readily siphoned for those in need. I can feel my life slip away as I walk through the hospitals. I wish that I could wave my hand and everyone would be ok. But I can’t. So I feel an overwhelming sorrow for myself because the one thing I truly wish I could do, nobody can do. I used to want to be a doctor, but because of this problem I quickly gave up that pursuit. To even be in the same building at the precise time a person dies would devastate me. I am afraid that my slightly above normal ability to sense a person’s life force would also grant me the ability to see the grim one. I am afraid of that. My love for my wife overcomes these fears easily. She is in the hospital for a D&C and needs me now, more than ever before. I’m scared, very scared. I want to cry; I want to destroy everything in the entire damn room. But she sees a calm, but slightly nervous, loving man beside her. I know she knows how I feel inside. But I kept it in. Kept it in for now.