Page 83 of Lift Me Up

The young doctor clears his throat. His coffee that he was toting is no longer with him, he's sloughed off his white med coat that gave him his confidence before in trade for a baby blue plaid shirt and a pair of khakis, his shirt tucked in and his stethoscope around his neck. "Yes, I... I would like the apologize for earlier, I'm just a first-year resident, and they had me work in peds last night, and I had a rough go with a patient that didn't make it and- sorry, I know it's very unprofessional of me to be unloading this on you or taking it out on you before. Just... I'm sorry." He swallows, glancing at the door as another doctor steps inside.

"Hello, gorgeous!" She says excitedly to me.

This woman is effortlessly stunning. Her beautiful black skin is perfectly even and not a flaw in sight. Her hair is styled in gorgeous dreads that she has tied back off her face. Her smile is radiant, and she looks genuinely happy to see me. She calls me gorgeous, and I fully believe her when she says it. This. This is the perfect first impression of a doctor.

Please Gods, do not let this flop.

"I'm Dr. Boseman, it's nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too." I make a glance at Noah, hoping to convey every possible emotion I feel as she pulls me in for a hug.

"So I hear you're here for a second opinion. I see you've come prepared. How about we get to it—is everything okay, Dr. Delvi?"

He flounders, making eye contact with before looking back at his clearly superior teacher, "Yes ma'am, I mean no ma'am, I mean⁠—"

"Actually, I think he was just leaving," I say to her while looking pointed at his gaping mouth. He tries to say something, but he stops himself, stands and rubs the back of his neck, waiting to be dismissed by Dr. Boseman no doubt. I clear my throat, put a smile on my face, and say to her, "If you don't mind, I've requested no residents for this visit. It should be in my chart that was sent over?"

"Oh, yes. I see that here. Dr. Delvi, perhaps you should take a break." She says as a way of dismissal, then she shuts the door behind her without another thought. Then she turns to me, the genuine smile ever present on her face. She sits on the rolling stool, her pen poised on her pad of paper, ready to listen. "So, where should we start?"

"Are you sure about this?" I say with slight hesitancy, laying full flat on my back on the couch, holding my shirt up and my stomach on full display.

"I have to be sure. No doctors here to hold my hand this time." Noah answers, tapping a needle like they do in those medical shows to get the air bubbles out of the meds. I have to squeeze my eyes shut.

"Why does it have to be four in a row?" I whine.

"Well, it's four needles in a circle, really. Or I guess more of a square around your belly button? But I understand the frustration. But just think, what if this works?" He says, sounding hopeful.

"What if it doesn't?" I glance wearily at him.

"Then we find the next thing to try, and we try that. But we don't give up. We do this together, okay?"

"Okay. Count down for me with each one. I can't look."

Noah wipes at my skin with an alcohol swab, four different spots all around my navel.

"3... 2..." On one, he injects the first of four shots to my stomach.

He's gentle, as if he'd be anything but gentle, and the pain is minimal. I've felt far worse things, and had far worse needles this, but it still makes me hiss. He administers the medicine in the syringe, discards it, rubs my stomach to soothe the slight burn of the medicine under my skin, then repeats the process. After 3 more '3...2... pinch', I snap out of the strong face I've put on, and let myself have a good cry.

My stomach hurts. Every way I move, it stings. It makes me feel sick. No one knows how my body will react to this new medication, no one knows if it will work. But it was a shot in the dark, a hope in hell that it will, a biologic medication delivered by injection rather than IV infusion, and specifically FDA-approved for HS. It's not a guarantee, but it's hope. Noah is in it for the long haul, promising to give me the monthly dose like clockwork, to document any reactions or flares I have while taking the med. He soothes my back, presses kisses to my cheeks to stop the tears, and apologizes for hurting me even though I asked him to do it because I didn't think I could do it myself. This is what I have been missing; this is what I almost denied myself. This is what I am so grateful to have again.

Best of all, I officially switched my medical case over to Dr. Boseman's hands, washing mine clear of Dr. Norris and her passive aggressive 'this is as good as you'll ever get,' mentality. Dr. Boseman has breathed new faith back into me in relation to my care. She never promised perfection, but she did promise to use her knowledge and connections in any way she could to help me. That's more than I've been promised in a long time. So I let myself hope.

12:00am. October 31st, 2024. Halloween. My twenty-sixth birthday.

"Happy birthday, Goddess." He says softly to me, kissing my cheek, my lips, my other cheek, kissing down, down, down my body, fighting the knee jerk reaction to the giggles spilling from my lips.

"Noah, I can't possibly—oh shit." His breath is hot over my panties, enticing me in every way.

"What was that?"

"You're—ah—you're going to get in trouble," I mutter, hand fisting into his hair, relishing in the gasp and moan of pleasure he lets out as he licks over me.

"Promises, promises." He teases me further, finger slipping under the fabric⁠—

The phone rings. We stop all action, his finger barely inside me, his eye meeting mine as we look to the nightstand. Sienna's name flashes across the screen.

Noah pulls back as I roll over and swipe the screen, "Hello?"