I remember how much I enjoyed Robert Louis Stevenson 's poem , The Land of Counterpane , about a boy who turns his sick bed into an imaginary world . " When I was sick and lay a - bed , I had two pillows at my head , And all my toys beside me lay , To keep me happy all the day . " I half - expected ( wished ? ) to see my mother yesterday when I woke up from one of my naps , coming toward me with the plate in hand -- tick - tick - tick . But now I ' m an adult , more or less , and I have to fend for myself .

Question: How do I feel about my current condition ?
Answer: I 'm sad that I do n't have anyone to take care of me now .I 'm fine with it .It does n't matter .I 'm happy about it .