I rasp when I talk until paroxysms shake me to be quiet, like some impatient ill-tempered, thing inside my chest where my lungs were last seen breathing, now they shake like cans of rusty nails, and a sneeze, and a sneeze, and a sneeze, till I and Fifi, have to go outside before one of us wets, how are you doing you ask and show caring, not wanting me to be sharing whatever it is I have, I answer with a muffled sound, like my nose was dropped and I sat down on it, "Unwell, hankyou, por assking"