After a long and torturing journey, we got to the ER. Eric passed my arm around his shoulder, and I limped toward the entrance (by then, my left limbs were already inert). The receptionist behaved in exactly the same way as the other hospital’s receptionist, and a few minutes later I was on a bed in the basement. Handling his cell phone, Eric quickly switched the people whom he called – my brothers (who then called my mother), our friends. My mother called a friend, a prestigious psychiatrist, who had the surgeon as a colleague. Her friend talked to the surgeon, and then told her that we should mention the name of the surgeon’s second-in-command. Eric did, and a bed magically appeared for us. A friend of mine, a pediatrician, rushed to the hospital to keep me company in the basement until I would be transferred. I found myself in a new room. I had a place to sleep. Eric’s parents had very generously offered to travel from Canada to stay with Nathan so that Eric could spend as long as he could with me.
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