A cup of coffee with sugar, please.
ELISABETH KONGSGAARD
MEDICAL PRACTICE
Please put out your tongue and say: Ahh.
Good! And again.
Then I should just listen to your lungs,
if you pull up the shirt.
And you breathe deeply.
Yes, and then you turn around.
So I listen to your back.
And you breathe deeply.
There's nothing to hear at your lungs, but
you have a throat infection with streptococci,
I write a prescription for penicillin.
Then it's probably going over.
Hi!
Look here. I've taken some food for you.
It's important, that you get
something good to eat.
I have a little differently.
A little bread...
fruit...
and meat.
What do you want?
Would you like a nice apple?
Will you not look at me?
How should I help you,
when you don't look at me?
Do you know, it's me,
who comes with coffee to you every morning?
Have you noticed that?
You could come home and live,
if you like.
You could try it again.
We could clear your old room...
... get some paint on the walls.
I think, it will give you stable
and good conditions.
It's better than this.
But dad, he misses you.
And he really misses you.
I can't handle seeing you like this.
I can't handle to see you
like this every single day!
If you want me to help you, say how.
I'm running out of ideas!
You just sit here in your own shit!
You know, I can get you send to hospital.
It's just a simple phone call.
Have you forgotten that?
A coffee with sugar, please.
It doesn't matter...
... because you don't know,
what I'm doing most of the time.