"I am missing the days when I suffered from physical pain," Zheng Weijun said. "At the very least, I felt that my body was my own. Now, it is as if I am a piece of wood."
"It's good that you have such thought," Wang Yao said.
"Dr. Wang, are you free at noon? Can you stay for a meal?" Zheng Shixiong asked.
"No thanks. I've told my family that I would come home to have a meal," Wang Yao said.
"OK. Well, maybe next time," Zheng Shixiong said as he walked Wang Yao to the door. After going back inside he asked, "Uncle Wu, is Weijun all right?"
"I cannot see any problems," said Mr. Wu, who had checked the patient carefully.
"I hope he is going to be OK," Zheng Shixiong said.
Zheng Weijun, who still had a pale face, was lying on the bed with blurred eyesight. He felt as if he was floating in a heavy fog in which he could not see anything clearly other than light and shadow. The brilliance of colors and beautiful scenery were hidden.
