23- sparckles flames

I left the bathroom and walked to my grandfather's bed. Some relatives of the patients from the next room had struck up a conversation with my mother and looked at me with tenderness. I had that feeling that she had told them my whole life and shown them the naked picture she had of me in her purse. I had just taken a bath and was lying on a Minnie Mouse towel, I was seven months old and had more hair than a Pekingese dog. I politely greeted them and sat next to my grandfather. When my mother left, the chairs around the room's door disappeared, and everyone returned to their place next to their patient. Virginia would bring my dinner as soon as she finished her last class on Public Opinion Theory, a lecture given by Minister Mercedes Pulido at the UAB. I took out my notebook and started writing. I was working on a poetry book, at first, they were just letters to Patrick, but I thought it had potential if I could break down the images and turn it into something more subtle and less suicidal. I scribbled and all that could be heard was the "beep, beep, beep" of the machine next to the patient's bed, which was connected to his heart.

"How's your grandfather doing?" - The sexy doctor asked me, catching me off guard while I was writing in my notebook.
"I don't know, he's been sleeping like a panda since 5 in the afternoon," I explained, quickly avoiding her gaze. I tried to hide how attractive I found her ¡Omg! She's here! I can't believe it!- I love how terribly you all look at the patients. - I continued saying - The doctor left the folder here and left.
"Which doctor attended to him?"
"Some Manuel Fool or wait, Manuel Incompetent? I don't remember the last name well."
"Manuel is a good doctor, Dassy," she said seriously.
"I appreciate that you don't call me Dassy… doctor… Contreras," I said sarcastically, pretending to read her name embroidered on her coat. She looked at me as if she couldn't contain her laughter. Apparently, she found it funny that I called her doctor.
"It's Christian, but call me Dr. Contreras," she said, smiling. I rolled my eyes.
"It's a joke, Meb is perfect. When we go for coffee, you can call me Meb."
"We'll see…" I whispered, standing up from the chair and leaving my notebook on my grandfather's bed - Doctor… - Then I left, only giving her a hostile glance. I left the room feeling like a fool, not knowing exactly where I was going. Seeing her clouded my mind. I walked around the rooms on the 3rd floor that connected to the first hallway at least three times before returning to where my dad was. Not seeing her again was an attractive idea, having her in front of me made me feel vulnerable. I returned when the guilt of leaving my grandfather alone overwhelmed me, but to my surprise, the sexy doctor was still in the room, talking animatedly with him.
"How old are you, grandfather? Do you remember how old you are?" she asked loudly, stroking his wrinkled hand full of bruises from the many catheters placed, searching for his delicate veins. She looked at him with a sparkle in her eyes.
"Have you finished avoiding me by going around the patients?" she asked while patting my grandfather's hand.
"I had to go to the bathroom," I snapped.
"Very well, these are the tests we will do tomorrow. I already told the orderly to look for him after breakfast. You should take this blood sample to the lab and show the results to Dr. Manuel tomorrow, okay? I already ordered them to give him a pain sedative just before the antibiotic. The nurse will come in an hour and change his catheter. The bleeding has been slowing down little by little, he is alert and stable. He's just tired and wants to go home, but that's normal. He can eat sweets until nine in the evening, he doesn't have any sugar problems, but we need to keep an eye on it because stress and tension from being here sometimes cause their sugar levels to rise. Try to give him water as much as possible, and don't worry, your grandfather will be fine," she concluded, writing down the instructions in the medical record and handing me the test orders.
"Oh, okay. Thank you," I felt relief in my chest - Thank you.
"Are you always this unpleasant?" she asked, biting a smile that curved on her lips. I looked at her perplexed with my mouth open, she awaited my response with a victorious air. Yes or no? Am I always unpleasant? Am I unpleasant?
"Well… yes, I think so. I'm pretty, what did you expect? I had a friend at university in Venezuela who used to say that if you're not unpleasant, you failed as pretty," I said, but thank you very much. You're a very kind doctor.
"Well, in Spain, if you're pretty and nice, you're quite charming."
"Are you telling me I'm not charming?" I asked offended. She started laughing.
"I have to go see another patient. Do I see you outside later? In the emergency area?"
"Maybe, if I'm in an enchanting mood," she laughed again and disappeared down the hallway.
As inconsistent as tied to logic was meeting Meb, there was little destiny in which I no longer believed. So her, that sometimes I am scared to think of that vertigo that she caused me by asking what she could do for me so many times and taking away all my worries just by asking. She did nothing but deceive me into believing that she could make a skyscraper out of me if she kept her blue eyes on mine. Dr. Manuel returned after a while and was surprised to see that Dr. Contreras had already done her job. He asked the nurse to pass him the treatment and wished me goodnight. An hour later, Virginia and Leslie arrived. Isa kept us company for a while and went home. Leslie looked tired, and her red and sleepy eyes filled me with sorrow. However, I knew that like me, she had no better place to spend the night. Being there, next to that old and brave man, with his very white skin, green eyes, and Santa Claus belly, was the greatest satisfaction of our lives.