In the evening, Adams found it indeed difficult to fall asleep. He had to rely on two sleeping pills to nod off, and even then, his mind was filled with dreams, all kinds of bizarre dreams.
The next day, he woke up around five, looking out through the glass window at the outside until seven, when the restaurant delivered breakfast. His wife comforted him, telling him not to worry, that since they hadn't received any notification of the experiment being canceled, it meant the experiment would proceed as scheduled. But Adams still did not believe it.
He hurriedly ate some breakfast, then sat in the ward waiting. He was very anxious, always fearing that what he had tightly grasped would slip away; the psychological shadow from the last time was just too great.
Every time a nurse came by, he would ask, "My experimental treatment hasn't been canceled today, right?"
