Personal hospital anecdote involving a figure referred to as “Mr. Ambition”

room while the brace was being installed, and they couldn't get in, but they heard me screaming. I don't remember screaming, so I deny everything. I tried to talk normally while it was happening. I felt like the whole affair was probably more taxing for the doctors than it was for me. I mean, at least I had morphine. "I'm sorry," I said to one of the doctors. "People must say awful things to you while you're doing this procedure." "One woman told me how much she hated me," the doctor said tranquilly. I tried not to cry, but I cried. Like I said: soap opera territory. Mr. Ambition never let go of my hand. te ok ok Mr. Ambition visited me in the hospital for hours every day. He brought me all kinds of awesome vegan smoothies. He met my parents, and got along well with them. When she got a moment alone with me, my best girlfriend asked what was up with him. "You guys broke up, didn't you? What's next?” "I'm not sure," I said. "We haven't talked about it." When I was able to go home, Mr. Ambition helped move me in. My air conditioner had stopped working, which is not fun for August in Chicago, especially for a person wearing a fur-lined brace. He promised to lend me a fan. I can't turn my head, so when Mr. Ambition arrived with the fan, I didn't realize it was him until he was standing right next to me. I was alone in my room, lying in bed, wearing only the brace and my underwear while I answered text messages. This was not as sexy as it sounds. Unless you're a medical device fetishist. In which case, I guess it was exactly as sexy as it sounds. The fan was quickly installed next to my bed. I felt awkward because I was half-naked and wearing a complex brace. I felt awkward because I couldn't help with the fan. I also felt awkward because I was racking up unpayable debt to a man who was, to all appearances, my ex. I tried to cover my discomfort by answering some more texts; then I looked up at Mr. Ambition. I couldn't read his expression. I felt oddly expressionless, myself. I felt wrung out. I couldn't think of any words I wanted to say. Maybe that was our moment of truth: the moment had no chemistry at all. I gave Mr. Ambition my hand. "Thank you so much for everything,” I said. "Of course," he said, squeezed my hand, and left. te OK ok After my accident, Richard sent me a quick email, then didn't contact me for over a month. I remembered what Mr. Ambition had said -- encouraging me to send more HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018630