"Have you been sleeping well lately?"

Dr. José writes down a few words on a piece of paper, which Representative Foley guesses are his name or something like that could refer to a patient.

"It's good."

"It's not easy, many patients will have insomnia, nervousness, and can't sleep."

"I seem to be okay, I've been sleeping well."

"Doctor, may I take the liberty of asking you a question?"

José glanced up at Representative Foley and motioned for a question.

"Is anyone still writing with pen and paper these days?"

"Ah, I like the feeling of writing by hand, as if it's closer to my brain."

"Closer to the brain?"

"Anyway, it's true that it's not easy to buy some paper now, these things are getting more and more expensive." Jose paused, as if to stop talking, and then the conversation returned to the discussion, "Foley, to be honest, you look fine." ”

"Yes, sometimes I often feel like I'm not sick, but sometimes it's not so rosy. Now I think that I am not sick less and less, and I even have some ...... when I am alone You know, some can't stand it. ”

"Spend as much time as possible with your family, don't think about it alone."

"Yes, that's right."

"Have you discussed it with your family, about the operation?"

"No, I don't know what to say yet."

The doctor said no more, and the office fell silent, uneasiness to Foley, a sudden sense of uneasiness that seemed to well-spring up from every pore, and he wanted to say something to break the silence but was completely unable to concentrate, he almost forgot how the words came out of his mouth, and how the sound had happened; He couldn't speak, he couldn't move, his forehead sweated, and when José's eyes took off the pen and paper and back on Forlì, it felt as if a long century had passed.

"Foley, you don't look good, does it happen often?"

"No, doctor, this is the first time, I don't know what's wrong, I seem to be scared, but there's nothing specific and scary, I don't know what it is."

"Are you sure you have no problems sleeping?"

"No, I'm in good spirits during the day."

"What about hallucinations?"

"Hallucinations?"

"It's just that there are some unreal images."

"No, doctor, I'm not mentally ill."

Representative Foley thinks of the word psychosis that someone had just been talking to him about it recently, it was Belus, and the car accident he was talking about.

"Doctor, are you going to recommend me to a psychiatrist?"

"Of course not, you look good, I just need to know how you're doing."

"I want to know if I don't feel anything like this, but I have some pain in my back once in a while, so I'm going to die?"

"Not yet, but it's hard to say."

"What happens if there is surgery?"

Representative Foley has been reluctant to ask this question, and he is even more courageous than asking himself how long he will live.

Life after the operation was not an easy vacation, his mother's insomnia after the operation almost became Foley's nightmare, he felt that his mother was calling him every night, asking him to find a way to help her fall asleep, and over time, this torture became a kind of guilt born in the soul, as if his mother's insomnia was caused by Foley, because of his birth, his incompetence, caused his mother to suffer so unbearable.

"After the operation, which is exactly what I am worried about, hemangioblastoma, in the thoracic spine position, the operation in this position requires very delicate techniques, even if the tumor is removed carefully and accurately, it is very likely to bring the sequelae of quadriplegia."

"Quadriplegia, isn't it the lower limbs?"

"Seventh cervical position, Foley." José reached out and gestured at himself, "It's about nerve conduction in the limbs. ”

"I see."

"Can't robots do it too? Does it hurt the accuracy of the nerves? ”

"Robots?" José put down his pen and held his wrist as if he had thought of something, saying, "Robots are a great idea." ”

"Good idea?"

"You can take a look at this material."

José pulls a soft-screen datar out of a drawer, unfolds it, and places it in front of Forlì.

"Just in the lab, you know that such an experiment can't be studied publicly."

"What is this?"

"Robots."

José replied.

"Doctor, I think I'm hallucinating now." Representative Foley laughs and says he was really laughing, as if he had an interesting science fiction book in his hand.

"It's not an illusion, if this office, this hospital, and me are all fantasies from you, that's good."

"Maybe so?"

"You can still joke about whether I should be happy."

"At least, you don't have to prescribe me sleep aids."

"I sometimes really don't think you have the inheritance of Von Hippel-Lindau syndrome."

"What's that?"

"Simply put, VHL syndrome is a rare autosomal dominant disorder. This type of person seems to have a short temper. ”

"Maybe I'm not as good-tempered as I seem."

"I wonder if your mother or father had such a genetic disease?" When José asks, Representative Foley thinks of his mother's uncontrollable tantrums when she was young, and thinks that maybe her mother has such a genetic problem.

"Mother, perhaps." Representative Foley pushes the data dispenser to the doctor.

"If she lives here, can you let her check it out?"

"She doesn't live here." Representative Foley replies, quickly realizing that he should make things clearer, adding, "My mother died a few years ago. ”

"Passed away."

"Cancer spread, died in Seattle."

"I'm sorry..."

"It's okay doctor, you're here to help me, too. If there's nothing to do, I'll go back first, will it be this time next week? Does it have to be once a week? ”

"Foley, it's up to you."

"Okay, I got it."

Straight ahead of the hospital is a park, and the noonday sun is particularly dazzling against the blue California sky, and Representative Foley wants a cup of coffee but has to go back to work.

As he got into the car, he remembered Leonard again.

Poor Leonard, he imagined what Leonard looked like when he died, and felt that he was lucky that he could still drive to work; Thinking of his cardiac arrest and sudden death, if it was just an accident, then Leonard was much luckier than himself, at least he was happy until he died, he did not bear the despair of knowing that death would come, he did not bear the fear that death was closer every day, let alone think about how to tell his family about his illness.

He told his family about his departure as a result of his death, and the pain, tears, and despair culminated at the funeral and then faded away. Isn't it better to have an accident and die suddenly than to suffer from an endless illness?

Thinking of this, Foley envies Leonard from the bottom of his heart, and this envy makes him uncomfortable, and he wants to vomit again.

When he arrived at the office, he locked himself in the toilet and retched until the sound of a meeting reminder sounded. He pressed the sound of the data machine and looked at himself in the mirror, his arms turned into a cloud of mist, his legs were submerged in water, there was only a body, a head and a rectangular upper body, this is what the future looks like, he can't let this become a reality.