She asked me: 'Can I Play Tchaikovsky?'

This young lady is in pain.
She walks with a walking aid, she's been suffering with her mobility for quite some time now.
She gobbles up pain medications as if they're a box of Nerds.
She grimaces, she winces. Yet she smiles.

Entering the room, after telling her I need to take her bloods, she asked me this question:
'Can I play Tchaikovsky?' while holding on her phone currently on a youtube playlist.

My automatic response was 'Yes, of course.' But inside my head, I feel so ashamed of myself to be not too familiar to such beautiful classical music filling up the room. I didn't even know how to spell the name Tchaikovsky, I had to google it days later on.

'Are you a big fan of the orchestra, the classical music? Like Bachs, Mozarts?' was my dumb, cliche-ish follow-up line of question.

'Not realy, I also listen to other genres of music. But growing up, and when I found out about Tchaikovsky, I found it really calming. It helps me not to think and feel the pain.'

This young lady is in pain.
She walks with a walking aid.
She grimaces, she winces. Yet she smiles.
Tchaikovsky to her is pain relief.
Pain that could be caused by physical or mental factors.

'I just need to think that I could not moan and just lie on my bed. We need to carry on. With pain or not.'

Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky to her is not just one of the best Russian composers, but could be one of her best analgesics.

The operation still went on. It was a success.
She's walking back up. Without the walking aid.
She grimaces, but only a little bit this time now.

She smiles.

She's holding on her phone, her earphones placed firmly on her ears.
I could see 'The Best of Tchaikovsky' on the phone screen.

In her, I could see her best in the making.

Another wonderful Tchaikovsky masterpiece.