She was a pleasant woman who liked to tell tales. Daniel had been assigned to her and he was happy that he was, Helen was his favorite patient and even if he did hope that she would get better he was still happy to have her around. He'd had a terrible week and she had noticed.
"The poor boy refuses to smile," she said and placed her hand on his. It had grown smaller since the last time that he had felt it. The sun that came in through the open window gave her face a false glow, "what's the problem dear?
"I'm fine Helen. It's you I should be asking. Have you had any problems lately? how do you feel?"
"I suspect that I feel the same way any dying woman would"
"You shouldn't talk like that you know. Nobody said that you were going to die"
"Ah, but do we not all do eventually?"
"When it's our time"
"And it's not my time yet?"
"No. And I don't think that it will be for a very long time" Daniel lied and she laughed.