Recently, my grandmother told me that I had been with my mother for the first few weeks in the hospital. She had mastitis and the baby was held in front of her. 

What hospitals are, I understood, when I had my babies. These are the kind of special factories where trained and often indifferent professional employees walk around.

My mother would bring me to feed me and I would refuse to eat at that very moment. I was carried away.   Upon my return (arrival? ) home,  I developed dystrophy.

So, I was born right into the hands of a big indifferent brother…