“It’s so cold,” Mom says from her hospital bed.
“You’re in a hospital. Hospitals are always cold.”
“No, it’s dark outside,” Mom insists. “I can see out my window.”
“No, Mom. Your window is in a corner.”
“That doesn’t mean it’s not dark and cold,” Mom says.
“Mom, it’s only dark and cold in your corner. Outside it’s beautiful. It’s light and warm.”
“Not here,” she says.
“No, not here.”