They told me that the medicine would sting, and sting it did. It was as if my arm had been assaulted by a thousand microscopic knives as I lay on the cot, my elbow unbent and my fingers extended straight outward as if attempting to cling to the clouds or the stars or God or whoever could save me from this pain. My mother stood on the opposite side of the room as I struggled to clench my teeth together, to muffle my screams. An hour later, before the agony had even begun to subside, the doctors administered the next dose.