"Good morning!" The masked man smiled politely as he walked into the room.
"I thought it would be a doctor!" I blurted out. Seeing this man on such a bright morning made me forget how to use polite language. My heart has a certain expectation, but also a kind of embarrassment.
"I am a doctor!" The man put a first-aid box on the table in the room. He opened the box and took out a stethoscope and a medical flashlight.
"Come and lie down on the bed," he said.
I went over and lay down on the bed. He expertly placed one end of the stethoscope on my chest. The moment the silver metal touched my skin, I felt a chill pierce my heart through my skin. All my pores went into a state of tension at once. As he bent over me, I could smell the faint natural scent of flowers on his body.
He turned out to be a doctor. Does this mean that he examined me and treated me while I was in a coma? I remember the strange gentle touch when I was in a coma. It was him.
