DAY 52: BREAKFAST
How one's body could maintain a waking schedule when sleep came unnaturally and in a room without windows, must surely be a mystery. Yet, as if working on cue, Natalia stirred well before her nurse arrived. That was normal. Less so, the weight that sought to press her eyelids closed again, the heaviness of her limbs that made lifting her hands to her face an effort. She put her wrist to her forehead with a frown, then attempted a jolt of energy - to swiftly dig her hands into the mattress and shove herself into a seated position, and from there, to her feet.
Not to overexert herself once again, but to refuse that it could be possible after sleeping. Happily, though all still felt leaden, her head did not swim. Encouraged, Natalia put on her slippers, rearranged the bedding, and waited. There came the announcement (reminding her, suddenly, of what she had last heard, and the guilt that had twisted in her gut, Jill--), and her face wrinkled with disgust at the hacking sound. Therapy and breakfast. Food would surely help.
Natalia did not wait long before her nurse opened the door, and after exchanging cursory “Good Morning”s (with rather more enthusiasm on the other woman's part), they began the walk to the Cafeteria. With, of course, the essential rest room stop, where water was splashed and scrubbed over her face, and her hair toyed with to no great satisfaction. At least the shower had renewed its body.
Separating in the Cafeteria, Natalia took her place in line and loaded her plate: eggs, fruit salad, fried “tater tots” (potatoes?), and curious meat wrapped in cooked dough. Some of everything, with juice and water. She thanked her servers, collected utensils and napkins, and found a seat at an empty table. It was early yet.
Sparing a brief look around to be sure no one she recognized had arrived - though she remained eager to greet every patient, at the moment she chose to focus on the possible strength gained from the meal - Natalia began to cut up the items and eat with a refined gusto. Entirely possible!
[Claude!]
Not to overexert herself once again, but to refuse that it could be possible after sleeping. Happily, though all still felt leaden, her head did not swim. Encouraged, Natalia put on her slippers, rearranged the bedding, and waited. There came the announcement (reminding her, suddenly, of what she had last heard, and the guilt that had twisted in her gut, Jill--), and her face wrinkled with disgust at the hacking sound. Therapy and breakfast. Food would surely help.
Natalia did not wait long before her nurse opened the door, and after exchanging cursory “Good Morning”s (with rather more enthusiasm on the other woman's part), they began the walk to the Cafeteria. With, of course, the essential rest room stop, where water was splashed and scrubbed over her face, and her hair toyed with to no great satisfaction. At least the shower had renewed its body.
Separating in the Cafeteria, Natalia took her place in line and loaded her plate: eggs, fruit salad, fried “tater tots” (potatoes?), and curious meat wrapped in cooked dough. Some of everything, with juice and water. She thanked her servers, collected utensils and napkins, and found a seat at an empty table. It was early yet.
Sparing a brief look around to be sure no one she recognized had arrived - though she remained eager to greet every patient, at the moment she chose to focus on the possible strength gained from the meal - Natalia began to cut up the items and eat with a refined gusto. Entirely possible!
[Claude!]