The pain has eased to a dull throb since then, but it’s still there in the background, overlaying everything, along with a faint sense that the world is out of kilter. It’s the reason I’m at the doctor’s today. I thought I’d better get myself checked out. Especially as I haven’t told anyone that I’m still suffering with it. Like our wedding day, I didn’t want to ruin our honeymoon, so I powered through, pretending everything was okay, dosing myself up with headache pills and staying out of the direct sun as much as possible. But it can’t go on like this. I’m beginning to worry that it might be something serious.
Finally, my name flashes up on the screen. They’ve still got me registered as Miss Zoe Williams. I’ll have to change that at reception after my appointment. I head down the corridor to Dr Philips’ room. She’s been my GP since I was a child and I dread the day when she says she’s going to retire. She’s always got so much time for me. I never feel rushed or squeezed in like many of my friends say they feel with their doctors.
‘Hi, Zoe.’ Dr Philips gives me a warm smile that makes me feel a little tearful. What’s wrong with me? ‘Congratulations on your marriage. I bumped into your dad in town last week; he told me you and Toby were on your honeymoon.’
I take a seat. ‘Thanks. We just got back from Lanzarote yesterday.’
‘You’ve got a lovely tan, so I take it the weather was good?’
‘Amazing, thanks.’
‘Wonderful. So, how can I help?’
‘I’ve got this headache; it started on my wedding day, actually. I fainted. Fell and hit my head on a desk and I’ve had a headache and felt sick and dizzy ever since.’
Dr Philips frowns as she types into her computer. ‘How long ago was this?’
‘Just over two weeks.’
‘Did you get it checked out at the time?’
‘No. It was right before the wedding ceremony and I really didn’t want to make a fuss. Not with a chapel full of people and a reception booked and paid for.’
‘Hmm, yes, I understand. That’s bad timing. But you should have got it looked at straight after.’
‘My mother-in-law’s a nurse and she gave me the once over. Said I was good to go.’
‘Oh, yes, Celia Johnson. She works up at the hospital, doesn’t she? Okay. Are you taking any pain medication?’
‘I’m alternating paracetamol and ibuprofen.’
‘Is it having any effect?’
‘Not really.’
Dr Philips nods and continues typing. ‘Loss of appetite?’
‘Yeah, but not all the time. Sometimes I’m starving.’
She opens a drawer and takes out a clear pot which she hands to me. ‘Can you go to the loo and pee into that?’
‘What, now?’
‘Yes, just quickly for me, and come straight back.’
I nip down the corridor to the ladies loo and hurry back with the sample, nervous about what she might be checking for. Dr Philips takes the pot from me, unscrews the lid, and dips a stick into it.
‘Have a seat,’ she says, gesturing to the chair. I sit down as she walks back over towards me, frowning at the little stick. Finally she looks back up at me, her eyes wide. ‘Well, it seems like double congratulations are in order.’
My stomach gives a little somersault as understanding sets in. ‘You mean…?’
‘Yes. You, my dear, are pregnant.’
I exhale. ‘I wasn’t expecting that. Not at all.’ In fact it was the absolute last thing I was expecting. I thought she might say ‘concussion’ or ‘brain tumour’ or something equally scary. But this… this is scary in a different way.
Dr Philips smiles. ‘We can work out how many months you are. Oh, and you’ll have to stop taking that pain medication. We’ll do a blood test while you’re here too.’
I blink several times and try to work out how I feel about the news. At least it explains the reason for my exhaustion and also why I fainted on my wedding day. ‘So… this is why I’ve been feeling so strange.’
