What does she mean by that? My accident is the result of my selfish and reckless behavior. Nothing more.
With a caring expression, she puts the medical file aside. "I'd like to run a few tests. Would that be okay?"
I'm not sure. What's the purpose of these tests?
"Don't worry, you won't experience any pain," she reassures.
"And after that, I can be discharged?" I try to muster a smile, and she nods in agreement. "Alright. Go ahead and run the tests," I confirm. The sooner I get them done, the sooner I can leave this place.
Minutes later, she places a cap on my head, with more cables attached to it than I can count. "This is an EEG; it measures your brain activity," she explains, plugging the loose ends of the cables into a device. "Just relax. If you'd like, you can close your eyes."
No, I don't want to. I'd rather stay awake if she's going to look into my head. I already felt uncomfortable in the MRI machine earlier, and now I feel a sense of unease again. "What's wrong with my brain?"
Her gentle smile is probably meant to reassure me, but it doesn't. "First, we'll conduct this test and a few additional ones, then we'll see from there."
She checks the fit of the cap once more and presses some buttons on the device. "I'll be back in five minutes, and then we can begin. If you need anything, press the call button." She points at the red switch on the wall.
That's very considerate, but it's not what's preoccupying me right now. My head isn't being examined for fun. She suspects an illness. Perhaps even something serious.
But I can't be sick. I don't want anyone to take care of me, and I still have a task to accomplish.
The cast on my arm is already frustrating enough, but what if there's more?
Panic rises within me, but I try not to show it. With lips pressed together, I nod, and the doctor leaves the room. As soon as the door closes behind her, all I can hear is the pounding of my heart.
