Psychic Reworking

It is time to rework what has gone wrong. My health is on a steady decline, and I have coughed myself voiceless for today. Bloody lungs and all. My fingers, deft as ever, are still working on the ivories. Tomorrow will see me reunited with my resurrected piano at long last, instead of the broken down monstrosity residing in the corner of my lair. I have found several manuals on martial arts, and while they make for a dull read, I believe my skills in that area have vanished abruptly. Therefore it makes sense that during this period, I should be improving my fighting skills. My defeat two months ago still haunts me, even if it was to a more experienced black belt. Perhaps my training will see an improvement in my health as well. Next Tuesday remains a red flag in my calendar, and while I am trying my utmost to remain calm, panic still swamps me on occasion. My appetite has wavered and finally died out, and I have trouble keeping my medication on track, given the potency of several of them. My last tango with the powerful expectorant knocked me out for half a day, making me miss my second dosage. Nonetheless, I have resolved to keep mind and body in top fighting form. Tomorrow will be all about the music. But today, I fight the shadows.