The doctor kept looking at me as if I were crazy, but he still turned around and gestured for me to follow him. Before we left, he handed me visitor shoe covers. They were uncomfortable without shoes or any kind of boots, but I didn't argue.
His office was on the third floor, right across from the elevator exit. He opened the door and had trouble finding the key to his office. It unsettled me, but the moment we stepped inside, I felt relieved. It really was his office, and it was clear that night shifts didn't suit some people and affected their ability to concentrate.
While I was lost in my thoughts, the doctor took off his coat and sat down at the computer, preparing the printer. Meanwhile, I examined the diplomas on his walls, then my attention was drawn to a photo of his family. I tried to start a conversation.
"You look like a happy man, Doctor Alexander."
At last, I knew his name. For some reason, he didn't wear a name badge, but I didn't care.
"Yes, I am a happy man. A well-paid job, a loving wife, and sons who look forward to me coming home from work. That's the only reason why, even though I don't like night shifts, I take them—so they have everything they need."
"Alexander, I'm glad you're so open to conversation, so I hope you won't mind if we address each other informally. I'd like to ask how long I was unconscious here in the hospital, when it happened, and what the date is."
The doctor signaled that he didn't mind and snorted softly.
"Mr. Ctibor, you were lying here for three days. The car accident was reported to the police shortly after three in the morning. A patrol was dispatched, and when they arrived, they found you next to a car with shot-out tires. It looks like you got out of the car by yourself, and I'm not surprised—you're a well-built man and—"
I interrupted him.
"The person who shot my tires—do we know who it was?"
"No. It wasn't possible to check camera footage because it happened in the middle of a forest. They tried to retrieve the GPS route you took, but either the technology failed or you were offline the entire time and never used it."
"Hm, Doctor, something doesn't sit right with me. I don't remember anything except the shot and the explosion. My memory is like a sieve, and if you hadn't said my name, I wouldn't even know that."
"In that case, Mr. Ctibor, I can't discharge you. I hope you understand."
"Yes, I understand that, but the person who tried to kill me won't just let it go, and I'll think of something on the move—at least that's what my inner voice is telling me."
"In my professional opinion, you're still in a condition where staying in bed and resting would help more."
At that moment, he took a syringe filled with a clear liquid from the table.
The instant I saw the syringe, I grabbed his arm and twisted it, wrenching the syringe out of his hand.
"What is this supposed to mean, Doctor?!"
"Try to understand me… ow, ow, ow… Hey, man, not so hard."
"Answer my question, Doctor."
"Sir, try to understand. By all indications, you're not in a condition to leave the hospital. According to our records, you have only one relative, who refused to take you into personal care."
"Wait—so I have a sister? Another piece of useful information. What's her name and where does she live? I'll go to her."
"Then at least let me look it up in the records."
"Don't even think about it."
"Doctor, you'll walk nicely behind me, and you'll go in front of me."
At that, I let him go, took the syringe, and pointed it at him.
"So start searching."
He did, though he protested a little.
"Oh dear, kindness gets you nowhere. Fine, we'll do it your way."
He typed something into the computer for a moment, then spoke.
"Your sister's name is Sofia Veselá, and she lives at Továrenská 1047/88."
"Alright, I have a name and an address, but somehow, even after hearing her name, it didn't feel right."
I felt that I had a sister, but I was sure that wasn't her name. I know that after memory loss, when a person hears something they should recognize, it's supposed to help bring memories back—but this sparked nothing, not even a flicker. Still, it doesn't matter. I'll go see this so-called sister.
I looked at the doctor again.
"Doctor, I'd like to ask you for one more thing. Clothes and some cash. And I almost forgot—a taxi, so I can get to this so-called sister."
The doctor tried to protest, but when I pointed the syringe at him again, he changed his mind.
"What am I supposed to do with you… fine."
He opened his wallet, pulled out €70, and tried to hand it to me.
"Doctor, add a bit more. I'll return it to you one day. It may look like I've lost my mind, but something inside me tells me this is necessary."
The doctor shook his head again and pulled out another €50. It was more than I'd asked for, but I didn't complain.
Then he called a taxi. From the address he gave the driver, I learned that I had been hospitalized in Trenčín, in the Slovak Republic.
What struck me was how I could know all of this, yet remember nothing important about myself. But I can't dwell on that now.
The doctor led me to the changing room, where I calmly changed into clothes belonging to another patient with a similar body build. I was surprised he didn't try to stop me anymore. He was probably glad to be rid of me.
While he muttered to himself, I learned that he and Nurse Katarína were the only ones on the night shift, which pleased me. Otherwise, this probably wouldn't have worked.
He escorted me to the doors, where my taxi was already waiting. I thanked him and once again told him I would repay everything. Moments later, I got into the taxi.
The driver asked for the address. I gave it to him and watched through the window as the hospital slowly disappeared into the distance.