\\**//CLICK\\**//
Food tastes strange to me now.
I realized this when I finally found the cafeteria. In my defense my meals were typically brought to me and most of the time fed to me, so the location had been unknown until now. I was packing a saddle bag in preparation for leaving when I couldn’t recall the last time I’d eaten. Upon reflection I realized it was the day the megaspells fell–within mere hours of them dropping. That was–I think–4 days ago at this point.
Anyways, though I managed to eat something–mashed potatoes and a fancy buck cake–it tasted downright terrible. Maybe it is just crappy hospital food.
Another odd thing I’d like to put on record is I also appear to not need sleep. You’ll recall my insecurity over how many days have past, well that is because I haven’t slept–not for lack of trying–I just haven't. I've been trying to measure the days by looking at the clocks, but some of them tell different times than the others–Maybe they were damaged in the earthquakes following the megaspells.
Light from outside isn’t much help telling the day and night either. Its just a greenish hue all the time–either slightly lighter or slightly darker and for no uniform amount of time.
\\**//SILENCE\\**//
Is it strange that I feel slightly agoraphobic? Part of me wants to stay, but I know I should go. I guess despite my newly regained sanity, I can still be crazy.
\\**//STATIC\\**//
Patient isn’t responding to treatment. I’ve tried everything I could. It was a mistake to switch my field of medical study from pediatrics to psychiatry. I couldn’t just stand by and do nothing as my Screwy–my Screwloose–barks like a celestia damned dog for the rest of her life.
We were going to get married before the accident. It was only a month away. I was walking on air and now it feels like I’ve been shot through the heart. **Sniffle**Sob** Maybe I’m too close to this? Me being here is doing more **sob** harm than good. First: do no harm. I think I’ll hand Screwy’s case over to someone who knows what the fuck they are doing.
I’m so sorry I couldn’t cure you Screwloose, I’m so very sorry.
\\**//STATIC\\**//
**Sobbing** How–how could I have forgotten about him? My fiance. I–I had a fiance. Doctor–Doctor–Who? I–I can’t remember his name. We were in love–I know we were–and getting married. WHY CAN’T I REMEMBER HIM? I remember my sister, my mom, nearly everypony in my life, but him.
Think rationally Screwloose, there has to be an explanation. Whatever the radiation did to heal my brain must not have restored lost memory. So, I just have amnesia? That can be fixed with the right triggers. I wish my Doctor were here–the one I don’t recall–he’d know what to do–I’m sure of it.
\\**//SILENCE\\**//
I have decided to not listen to any more native recordings. It–it is too painful not knowing who he is, but having these feeling flare up hearing his voice. I’ll just let the rest get over written. It is for the best.
Now I’ll just focus on locating any other survivors. First I’ll look in on my old house to make sure mom and Shoe made it to a stable. If they didn’t–**labored breath**–I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.
\\**//CLICK\\**//