Sometime later, a man came into the room. He walked to the other side of the bed carrying a case. An orderly scurried after him and set up a folding table. The man put his case down and picked up Clover’s chart from the end of her bed.
The man wasn’t very tall. He looked like he didn’t work out at all. He was at least in his thirties with brown hair that was thinning on top. His glasses perched near the tip of his nose.
He didn’t acknowledge me at all. He just read through the chart and went back to the folding table to start mixing some things together. I stood.
“Urso, sit down. I don’t need to be intimidated.” He muttered.
“I’m not trying to intimidate you. I want to know what you’re doing.” I told him.
“First, I’m making something to help speed her physical healing before I ex
