"What?" she asks for the tenth time that day.

They have been having this same conversation for hours. It has become almost monotonous.

“No, it cannot be. I am perfectly healthy! There must be another explanation….” she says.

She is lying face down on her bed. Her face looks like a pincushion. She is lying flat on top of the blankets.

You're sitting next to her on the edge of her bed. She doesn't want to tell you she has Hanahaki disease.