Nevara
The physician had been gone less than ten minutes when two attendants carried a walker into our bedroom.
I stared at it from the bed.
It was polished silver, fitted with black handles and four sturdy wheels. Someone had even placed a padded seat between the bars, as though I might become exhausted during the twelve steps between the mattress and the bathroom.
“No,” I said.
Thoren did not look up from the note the physician had left behind. “Yes.”
“I am not using that.”
“You are.”
“I can walk perfectly well.”
“You can also collapse perfectly well.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Once.”
“Once completely. Once nearly. Several episodes of dizziness, multiple headaches, and now a child who apparently completed several weeks of development overnight.”
The attendants wisely finish
