"Well memory integration seems fine. How are your fine motor skills?" he asks me.
"Fine, I think." I raise my hand and make a fist and then extend each finger in turn.
He watches my hand and jots down a note before saying, "Well, I think we can move on to the physical tests then."
The nurse walks in with my clothes. She sets them down and then stands to one side. I hate this part of orientation. I stand and face away from the doctor. If I can't see him I can pretend he isn't there.
Like pulling off a bandaid, I strip off the hospital gown in one motion.
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