I wake up completely exhausted.
Getting back home late hadn't done much good except taking a late dose of medicine, so now I felt drugged and sleepy. All I wanted to do was to roll over and go back to bed.
But somehow I doubted that, what with my mother standing right in front of me, tapping her foot loudly on my wooden floor.
"You have an appointment in thirty minutes. Let's go."
I groan, covering my face with my hands. "Mom..."
"Now." I feel articles of clothing land on the bed. "Get dressed. We leave soon."
A time later, I find myself in a different examination room.
"Maria, my favorite patient." The doctor says. "How's it going?"
"As well as it can be, stuck in a wheelchair with impaired mobility, especially with the knowledge that by the end of the month, I'll be dead." I say, smiling.
"Good, good." The doctor says, clearly not hearing me. "We- well, I- just wanted to check up on you, make sure you're doing all right. Can you move your legs?"
"No." I say. "Well, I can, but it hurts a lot when I do. Same with my torso, on a regular basis."
Dr. Beard frowns. "I see," is all he says. "Well, I guess we'll have to get you a new prescription." He presses a button, and minutes later a nurse strolls in.
"It'll be just a minutes," she promises cheerfully. I say silent as she rolls me out of the room.