The pain has become regular.
People know what to expect when they talk to me.
"I'm hurting."
"I need to rest."
"I'm going home."

The questions they ask me have become monotonous.
I have the story of my illness down to a tee.
"I've tried that."
"No, it never goes away."
"It's been about eight months now."

The doctors know all about me.
Out of the hundreds of patients they treat, I stand out.
"My pain is at an 8."
"I'm on my way to the hospital."
"My I.V. fluids need to be changed."

I'm used to spewing lies from my mouth.
It's become quite easy over the months.
"I'm fine."
"I feel a little better."
"I'll get well soon."