Central Hospital (Caracas, Venezuela)

After praying, my Dad kissed me on the forehead and left the room. My grandmother planted a childish backpack of Hulk on the bed.

"I brought you some of your clothes," she said gesturing to the ridiculous backpack.

"Grandma, when will I be able to go back home?"

"Tomorrow, Aníbal, tomorrow we'll release you," a slightly hoarse voice replied.

It was a chubby doctor with a wide face; he was bald but he still had a little black hair left. He smiled at me while he was went over the metal folder hanging at the foot of my bed. A nurse took my wrist and checked my pulse.

"Excuse me, doctor, could you do me a favor?" "What can I do for you, young man?"

"Could you tell the doctor who visited me last night that I would like to talk to her?"

"Her?" he asked in surprise.

"Yes, she visited me last night. She was tall, blond, very pretty..."

"I am the only doctor who is taking care of you, young man. You surely got confused with one of my nurses," he said, wrinkling his face slightly.

I looked at the nurse who was with him. She had dark skin, was a bit chubby, had a wart on her nose and was missing a tooth: She was definitely out of my list of the most beautiful nurses of that hospital.

Had I dreamed her, too? I wondered. I was dead tired and too confused to continue investigating what had happened to me last night. Needing a distraction, I turned on my old computer and the wireless device. I got into Facebook and read with joy a lot of birthday messages in which people were also wishing me and my brother a fast recovery for me and my brother; but the mail that I liked the most was the one I got from Suhail. Although it was very simple, it filled me with happiness:

I'm landing in London. I wanted to be with you on your birthday, but I had to come unexpectedly. Well, you know how my dad is, sometimes he just wants to meet us, and well, here we are. By the way, happy birthday!

Kisses, Suhail.