The inpatient department of the hospital was on the 13th floor, in the E.N.T. department's main clinic area. It was the shift change time.
A nurse led me to the consultation room to fill out the admission form. She asked questions, and I answered. In front of me was a glass wall, through which I could clearly see the entire nurses' station.
"What is your name?"
"Sophie Wills."
"Are you a local patient?"
"Yes."
The nurse asked a few more questions. When I looked up, I saw someone outside the glass wall sorting through some documents. Even though I saw only his side profile, his handsomeness was undeniable. Had I seen him somewhere before? I tried to think but couldn't recall.
"Are you married?"
"Yes."
"Do you have children? How many people are in your family? Did you come alone for the consultation?"
The nurse asked a series of questions, making me feel like she was conducting an interrogation. After a while, noticing my absent-mindedness, she finally stopped questioning.
After the questions were finished, I took the form, and the nurse led me to my bed, number 37.
I sat down and organized my belongings. When I looked at the form, the word "married" caught my eye. My absent answers had labeled me as married. I was about to ask the nurse to correct it, but it was after hours, and the nurses' station was empty.
Never mind, it didn't matter. It was not like I was here for a blind date.
That evening, the doctor came in, wearing a mask. After asking me some questions, he prescribed some tests.
Thus began my days in the hospital.
The next morning, after the doctor made his rounds, I completed all the tests. With nothing else to do, I noticed someone in the next bed had brought cards. I couldn't believe it. Soon, a few patients and their companions in the ward started playing Texas Hold'em. My terrible skill resulted in my face being covered with pink paper strips, making me look like a string of spaghetti, but we were having a blast.
Just then, a beautiful nurse, Lucy Harding, pushed a cart filled with various medications into the ward, asking, "Patient in Bed 37, where are you?"
"Here, I'm here..." I replied.
"I thought you were the companion for bed 39. You've got a great attitude!" The nurse said and saw my face covered in pink strips, and then she couldn't help but laugh.
Was I getting an intravenous drip for medication?
"I just got here. Do I really need an IV, Nurse Lucy?" I said and tried to hide my fear.
"The doctor prescribed it. You can ask him if you want."
As soon as she finished speaking, a doctor in a white coat walked up to me, saying, "Your test results are out, and all indicators are good. We'll schedule the surgery in the next couple of days."
Seeing my confusion, he calmly continued, "The IV is to reduce inflammation and prepare your body for surgery. Although it's a minor surgery, it requires general anesthesia. This is all part of the pre-surgery preparation..."
As he spoke, he handed me the report.
He stood by the window, the sunlight shining on his side profile. His white coat was dazzling in the sunlight, and his tone was gentle and approachable.
After the IV, I went out to find that nurse, hoping to get some useful information about the doctor.
All I learned was that the doctor's name was Frank Murray. He wasn't a doctor from this hospital but a resident physician from another city, here for advanced training. He was known for his gentle demeanor, humility, and dedication to his work. Considering it was our first meeting, I thought it best not to pry into further with the nurse.