I sighed in bed, exhausted by the illness and by everything that was happening to me emotionally.

There was a knock on the bedroom door and I could only mutter a weak:

"Come in."

A nurse came into the room with a smile on her face and my breakfast, pancakes filled with honey and blueberries, orange juice, coffee, toast, everything I had for breakfast as a child.

"Hey, my favorites. Thanks."

I thanked the girl with a smile as she helped me sit on the bed, asking if I wanted to go to the table.

"No, no, I'm fine."