Chapter 27

During the next half hour, she examines me thoroughly, questioning me endlessly about my daily routines and other things that don’t seem to have much relation to tiredness and extreme hunger. She takes blood and asks me to urinate in a cup which is awkward, given that the act of standing makes me feel too lightheaded. Jake tries to come to my rescue, but there’s no way I want him to watch me peeing in a cup. I hold him back with a raised palm, hating the look of pain that flashes across his face. He must think I’m refusing his help because of what has happened this last week. He moves back to his deflated posturing against the wall, sinking into a quiet, somber mood; I hate him this way.

The doctor takes away everything she has collected, all cups and samples, and moves to the oak unit that sits against the bedroom wall. She spends a long time pouring, dipping, and using other chemicals and powders in her chemistry kit. Watching her is fascinating, and it reminds me of the sci