"Poor you." Danica folded her hands tentatively in her lap, trying to cover up the wince. "You never know, tonight might be your lucky night." Because all doctors secretly want their patients to die and take their nuisance with them, Danica was sure. Of course, she wasn't talking about herself but only she really knew that. "I want something more for-" the pain?, "-my arms," she finished stubbornly, refusing to admit to any further discomfort.