But I go anyway, because I don't want to make trouble for myself. I am there for about 2 minutes, literally. The nice lady who is there says that it’s fine. She does what I ask and even makes sure tomorrow is dealt with so I don’t have anymore issues.
I go back to my room and tell my PCA (personal care assistant) what happened and how I’m totally confused and a little bit pissed off (as I am still not feeling well). I would much rather have stayed in my aforementioned cozy bed instead of getting dressed and going down to deal with what turned out to be nothing.
PCA’s response, “Maybe he has a very sad internal life.”