The barking of a dog woke me up this time.
Still feeling groggy, I let my hand pat and stretch on the bed, stopping short when I noticed something. I was clothed.
Who had done so?
The first time, I hadn't even noticed if I was clothed or not. The pain hadn't allowed me that luxury of feeling anything.
But the second time, I had been naked save for a thin gown which correlated to a normal hospital gown reserved for sick human patients in their hospitals.
But now, I was in a pair of shorts and a thin polo. No bra though. How?
In short, who had been even in charge of my dressing? I hope it was the female stranger.
The thought of the man peeking at my body even though he was most likely the doctor and seemed sincere didn't sit well with me. I have always preferred female doctors.
Call me whatever, but that's my choice. Why would a man be looking down there? Doesn't it feel weird, for them I mean?
