My weekend.

 When I got up on Saturday, I was invaded by the sensation of a foreign body, that sensation that imprisons your movements. I still remember the discomfort and frustration I felt. I could only look up at my ceiling and move slowly so as not to feel that discomfort, patiently waiting for my mother or my brother to come to my aid. However, when they opened my door, the only thing I thought was that the moment they lifted me up, I would feel an even worse feeling. 

Clearly, I was not mistaken, the moment my brother approached me and took my arm to help me sit on the edge of my bed. I felt like my internal organs were in a bubble that I did not know when it could explode. Once sitting down another challenge began to be able to stand up. In this case, I could only feel how my organs floated at will with the fear that at any moment they would fall, but not all this is bad if you count to 3, and at the last moment you breathe deeply and get up, that it helps a lot so that this feeling is not so unpleasant. 

The doctor's recommendation was to rest and walk every so often, and that's how my day went, getting up, sitting down, walking around my house, and never forgetting to count to three. But the worst thing about all this was that I couldn't laugh because it made me hurt a little, that is terrible.