Like yesterday, my morning started with the noises and movements inside my room. The doctors were already there, including my cousin, Alexis. Plus, the nurses were checking my IV bag. It was only seven in the morning, and I was still heavy-eyed from the tiredness and the medicine’s side effects.
“Mr. Owens, we are still waiting for your MRI results. Your attending doctor will come here to check it and perhaps read your diagnosis,” One of the doctors said after checking me up, “So far, your blood work is doing okay,” she added, looking at her chart.
I inhaled, “Sweet. Because I really want to go home,” huffing. The nurse drew some blood from me last night after the MRI. And I was glad it was okay.
“We understand,” the other doctor butted in. They continued asking and checking on me. On
