I slept oddly. My lungs were playing chords.

I could hear them making sounds, like bagpipes that had been left in a corner, with a dog sitting on them. They don't feel inflamed today. I think this means I am getting better.

I've been spitting. Isn't that a funny thing to feel optimistic about?

I am moving around very slowly, but I want to eat. I'm going to walk to my local shop and buy fresh bread.

For some reason, if you search Google Images for "dog with bagpipes", you get a picture of President Abraham Lincoln.