You can find your way around this building that has been entered and exited hundreds of times with your eyes closed. I squeezed in among the crowds from all over the world and registered by familiar means, rushed into the elevator, turned left on the third floor, ten meters away... The triage table arrived.
Neurology, yes, these days everyone claims or accuses others of being neurotic, but how many of them have actually been officially certified by the hospital? As a senior woman who has been certified from neurosurgery to neurology for sixteen years, I suddenly wanted to laugh.
…
This eager look almost melted me, and I felt dizzy and wanted to throw myself into his familiar and warm arms and cry loudly, telling him how I had missed him for ten years, telling him all my grievances, and telling him all my last resort. . .
However, the nightmare of no exit ten years ago continues.
When I first transferred to neurosurgery, I was studying at T University in Beijing and he was studying at J University in Shanghai. I still clearly remember the day I was diagnosed. I sat alone outside the EEG examination room, waiting for the results. There was no one in the long, dark corridor. Little Simba's lines replayed in my mind over and over again, "Anyone?" Somebody?
Is there anyone who can help me, nineteen years old?
Conception: