That wasn’t their job.
I told them to document.
Ask.
Give the patient room to answer.
Notice change.
One nurse raised her hand.
“What question mattered most?”
Easy.
Do you want me to stay?
Because it gave me a choice at a time when almost every part of my life felt chosen for me.
Cancer chose surgery.
Doctors chose schedules.
My body chose what I could eat.
Daniel tried to choose my money, my voice, my story.
Rachel gave one choice back.
Do you want me to stay?
Yes.
Then:
Do you feel safe being alone with him?
No.
Two tiny words.
Yes.
No.
My whole life changed between them.
I sometimes think about the clock on the kitchen wall that evening.
Rachel left around 6:26.
She returned around 6:32.
Six minutes.
Daniel believed six minutes were private.
He believed that if nobody saw something happen, he could explain it afterward.
