After the patient's angry father explained to me that his son had had an accident, stealing his motorcycle, I went to the son's room to take stock of his condition. He had already been operated on, it was written in his file. Normally, he is relatively stable but requires some additional care that does not involve his vital prognosis.

I have a moment of incomprehension as I close the door behind me. In bed, attached to the monitors, the virile "son" described by the father is not what I had imagined. I hesitate, not knowing how to go about it.

"Um... hi, Bud. I'm Arizona. Your father just arrived, he's in the hallway."