Carlos does not feel well. His stomach hurts and he has a headache. He decides to go to the doctor. He takes the elevator to the third floor. He walks into a large waiting room. The room is clean and bright. There are many chairs in rows. Some chairs are blue and some are gray. Carlos looks around the room. He sees a lot of people sitting and waiting. A young woman reads a magazine. An old man closes his eyes and rests. A little girl sits next to her mom and plays with a toy. Carlos finds an empty chair near the window. He sits down and takes a deep breath. Carlos looks at the clock on the wall. It is ten in the morning. He picks up a magazine from the small table next to him. He tries to read, but he cannot focus.

His stomach hurts too much. He puts the magazine down. A nurse walks into the waiting room. She has a clipboard in her hand. She calls a name. "Mr. Hasan, please come with me." An older man stands up slowly. He follows the nurse through a white door. Carlos watches the door close. He hopes the nurse will call his name soon. He looks at the clock again. Only five minutes pass. He feels nervous and a little scared. Carlos waits for thirty minutes. Then the nurse comes back. She looks at her clipboard. "Carlos?" she says in a calm voice. Carlos stands up quickly. "Yes, that is me," he says.

He follows the nurse down a quiet hallway. They stop at a small room. The nurse smiles at him. "The doctor will be with you soon," she says. Carlos sits on a chair in the room. He looks at the white walls. He sees a poster about healthy food. He reads the poster slowly. Then the door opens. A doctor walks in. She has short hair and a kind face. "Hello, Carlos. I am Dr. Melo. How are you feeling today?" she asks. Carlos takes a breath. "Not very well," he says. "But I am happy to be here."

Carlos has been feeling unwell since the previous evening, with a persistent stomachache and a dull headache that refuses to go away. Reluctantly, he decides to visit the hospital, taking the elevator to the third floor where the general outpatient clinic is located. The waiting room is large and brightly lit, with rows of chairs occupied by patients of all ages. A toddler fidgets beside her mother, an elderly man dozes quietly in the corner, and a young woman flicks through a magazine without really reading it. Carlos finds an empty seat near the window, settles in, and glances around the room, taking a slow, steadying breath. He notices how oddly peaceful the space feels despite the number of people in it. Carlos picks up a magazine from the side table but quickly realizes he cannot concentrate on anything. He keeps checking the clock on the wall, watching the minutes pass with agonizing slowness. A nurse appears in the doorway, clipboard in hand, and calls out a name in a clear, professional voice.

"Mr. Hasan, please come with me." An older man rises slowly, straightens his jacket, and disappears through the white door without a word. Carlos watches the door swing shut and wonders how much longer his own wait will be. His stomach tightens, not only from the pain but also from the quiet anxiety of not knowing what the doctor might say. After about thirty minutes, the nurse returns and scans her clipboard before looking up. "Carlos?" she says, her tone calm and reassuring. He stands immediately, relieved that the waiting is finally over. She leads him down a quiet hallway to a small, tidy examination room, where a poster about balanced nutrition is pinned to the otherwise bare wall. "The doctor will be with you shortly," the nurse says with a brief smile before stepping out.

Carlos sits down, reads the poster to distract himself, and then the door opens. A doctor with short hair and an unhurried manner walks in and introduces herself. "Hello, Carlos. I'm Dr. Melo. Tell me, how have you been feeling?" Carlos exhales slowly. "Not great," he admits, "but I'm glad I came."