It had been too long since I last stepped foot in the hospital, a place I once frequented without hesitation. After the mistake I made, I felt an invisible barrier between Saru and me; it was as if she didn't want to see me again. Yet, as the days passed, the weight of uncertainty became unbearable. I couldn't just sit at home, lost in my thoughts about her.
So, I decided it was time to face my fears. I geared up, hopped on my bike, and felt the cool wind against my face as I rode towards the hospital. I needed to see her, to understand how she was truly doing. With each turn of the wheels, a mix of hope and anxiety surged through me—I was finally going to confront the reality of her condition, and perhaps, my own regrets.
As I arrived at the hospital, a sense of urgency fueled my steps toward the reception desk. "I'm here to see a patient named Saru," I said, my heart racing. The receptionist began sifting through the records, and my anticipation built. But then, her words hit me like a cold splash of water: "I'm sorry, sir, but Saru has taken a one-day discharge from the hospital." I stood there, stunned, grappling with the unexpected news.