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“Yes.”
I sighed. “That sucks. I'm young and healthy.”
“On the list of medical issues to deal with, this is very manageable. Diabetes is much more common and causes far more problems.”
“I guess I didn't think of it that way.”
“It helps to put things in context. We'll start you on a low dose of a beta blocker and see how you do on that. If you have any side effects, let me know right away. We’ll try to dial in the right dose to minimize your episodes.”
“I'm hoping the lowest dose will work,” I said firmly.
He simply nodded, and I thought he was keeping something from me. Being me, I demanded, “Are you trying to hide something from me?”
“No.” He chuckled. “You may do well on this dose, but based on your symptom pattern, we'll probably need to increase the dose.” I wrinkled my nose and narrowed my eyes. He shrugged. “I'm just being honest.”
“I know.” I let out a sigh. “Fine.”
“Schedule a follow-up on your way out. I’d like to see you in three weeks.”
I stood with him, and he held the door for me as I walked into the hallway. He caught me lightly by the elbow just as I was about to turn toward the exit. “Yes?” I prompted.
“Thank you for trusting me and for trying the medication.”
“I know you're the expert,” I said grudgingly. “I tried it my way, and it didn't work.”
“Let's see how it goes. Talk to you in a few weeks.”
When I walked out into the waiting area, Diego was there. He stood from a chair when he saw me.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, not even bothering to keep the annoyance out of my tone.
“I saw your car and figured you had an appointment.”
“Doesn’t my privacy matter here?” I glanced at the receptionist.
She had a headset on and was talking to someone.
My brother rolled his eyes. “I can come in and talk to you.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Diego. I'm fine. I'm starting the medication.” I held up a piece of paper.
“What's that?”
“It's my prescription. Quinn called it into the pharmacy and gave me the printout, which explains my dose and all the small print stuff.”
Diego reached for the paper, and I snatched it back, folding it quickly and putting it into my purse. “I will keep you posted.”
I walked to the reception desk, took care of my copay, and scheduled my next appointment before we walked out together. He was parked right beside my car.
“You know I love you, right?” He looked down at me.
“I love you too,” I muttered. Since this was already a fun, awkward convo, I decided to tackle the next looming topic. “I understand Grant spoke with you.”
Diego’s brows hitched up. “Oh, he told you he talked to me?”
“He did, and I have one thing to say.”
“I'm sure you have something to say,” he retorted.
