When we landed in Orlando, I asked if someone from the clinic was coming to collect her, or if she would rent a car. She began to list all the things she needed to do before she even considered leaving the airport. She needed to eat at the Chipotle; use the restroom in Terminal C because international terminals have the cleanest toilets; get a ten-minute massage. Maybe she would even check into the airport hotel for a night. “Being a patient is serious business,” she said. “I have to prepare.” I wondered if preparation meant exercising every choice available until you were so exhausted that it
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