The rest of my night seemed to pass by in a daze, in a blur. Before long, I had become aware of how cold it actually was, of the risks that I was taking by being out here without a jacket or anything else that would have been able to keep me warm—the biggest risk being the possibility that I could get sick.
I knew better than anyone how bad it was whenever I found myself sick, knew better than anyone just how difficult it was to get out of bed, let alone to continue with my everyday responsibilities. And in a place like this, where I doubted that they would have any sympathy for the sick, I did not want to experience it.
Because who was there to say that there would be anything here to heal me? I remembered all too well what had happened with the ointment that had been meant to help me
