Round in Circles, Let's Start Over

"They think I need to get fat. That's all there is to it," I sighed.

"So you're anorexic," I winced at the use of that term.

"No. I'm not sick. I just don't want to get fat again."

Ryan nodded and can over to grip my hand, "I'm sorry, Lemon."

I pulled my hand away. What did he need to be sorry for? I wasn't some charity case.

"I don't need your pity. I'm fine," I said, coldly.

Ryan shook his head and walked out of the room.

I sat in silence for a few more minutes before I heard the door open. I looked over and smiled at the doctor who entered.

"Can I go home now?" I asked, hopefully.

I put on my best, most reassuring smile and beamed up at the doctor.

"I'm sorry but you are nearly thirty pounds underweight, and from what your friends and my interns have said, I think I need to keep you here for observation and IV nutrition for a day or so," The doctor explained.

I noticed Ryan standing behind the doctor, looking extremely apologetic. I glared in return, but quickly looked back at the doctor with the same angelic smile I'd sported before.

"You do whatever you have to, doctor," I said sweetly.

The doctor looked shocked, but nodded and spouted some orders to an intern before turning and leaving the room.

I watched the doctors and nurses scramble in and out of my room, running around like crazy people. It was kind of amusing. You see, at first they thought I'd fight against this and put restraints on me, which I then told them to tighten because I could easily slip my hand through. So they took the restraints off, deciding I was delusional. Then they tried to find out why I wasn't fighting back, because there just had to be something wrong with my brain. Then when they found nothing wrong, they conversed worriedly in the back of the room. Eventually they've just given up and starting the IV nutrition. And throughout all this I came to one conclusion; interns are idiots.