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Dr. Tam she rolls over on her chair, covers my hand with hers, and smiles. “It’s okay, Claire. We don’t know that it’s anything right now. Those symptoms are very broad and could be numerous different things, many of them not serious. And if it is, well, you’re getting in here nice and quick. We’ll take care of it.”
Out loud, I agree with her, but all I’m thinking about is how quickly my mom was diagnosed after her symptoms started. Four weeks. Four weeks and her entire life turned upside down. Eight more months and she was gone. Getting into the doctor quickly didn’t help her beat cancer.
“Can you tell me what your cycles are like?”
“Uh, normal, I guess?” I shrug. “I’m not really sure.”
“Are your periods irregular?”
I shake my head.
“How many days are your cycles?”
“Um…” I scratch at my scalp. “Twenty…seven? Ish? I think?” My cheeks heat. “I’m sorry. I don’t really track my cycle.”
“That’s okay. I’m assuming that’s because you’re on birth control?” She answers her own question when she scrolls through her iPad, whispering the name of my birth control to herself. “And are you sexually active?”
“Yes. With my boyfriend.”
She just smiles and nods, jotting it all down on her pad. “How long have you two been together?”
I hate this question. It feels like we’ve been together forever, but it’s really not been long. It’s only the end of the first week of August, and I don’t count the three weeks I spent running from a relationship with him, so… “We’ve been together for two months.”
“Ah. Still new. Isn’t that some of the best fun you’ve had?”
I manage a giggle. It really has been the best time of my life. I’ve loved every minute of it, even the arguing. Because if we argue hard enough, I storm away from him and he chases after me. It always ends with Avery throwing me over his shoulder, telling me to stop being so hard-headed and stubborn, and that he loves me more than anything in this world. And then he shows me just how much that is.
Dr. Tam leads me into another exam room, where the same nurse who did my throat swab back at the end of June takes a couple vials of my blood while I look away, because I can’t stand the sight of needles. Then she has me lie down on the exam table and prop my feet up in stirrups while she does a pelvic exam.
She barely says a word, though she smiles through every minute of it, until her smile falters and her eyes flicker. One hand presses on my belly while the other moves around inside of me and I hiss out in pain.
“I’m sorry, Claire. I know it’s a bit painful.” She pulls her hands back and takes off her gloves, moving to the sink to wash her hands.
I don’t like the look on her face. It tells me she found something, something that isn’t right.
Still, I pull my underwear on and straighten my skirt, meeting her out in the hallway.
“We’ll give you a call and bring you in when we have the results, and then we’ll go from there, okay?”
I don’t say a word. I don’t even nod. My eyes are burning, stinging with tears. I just know something’s wrong. I can’t shake the feeling in my stomach, like I drank sour milk. I want to vomit and then curl into a ball and pass out for six hours.
Instead, I plug my earbuds in, turn my music up, and walk home from the doctor’s office in a fog, deciding to forgo the last three hours that I was supposed to return to work for.
When Avery comes through the door later that evening, I’m curled up under a blanket on his couch, the cat draped around my head, dog at my feet.
“You know,” Avery starts, strolling over to me, “Sully was never allowed on the furniture before you came along.”
I swing a protective leg over Sully, tucking him closer to me. “Dogs belong with their humans. Don’t take him away from me.”
Sully lifts his head and cocks it at Avery, as if he’s backing me up. Yeah, Dad. Don’t take me away from her. At least that’s what I imagine.
Avery chuckles and crouches down in front of me, pressing his lips to mine, and then my forehead. “How are you feeling? You don’t feel hot. It’s not strep again, is it?”
I feel awful about it, but I wasn’t fully honest with Avery about my reasoning for my trip to the doctor. He’s aware of the symptoms, of course, but not about the diagnosis I’ve given myself in my head. I’m worried about scaring him, turning him anxious, making him more overprotective than he needs to be.
There’s also a little part of me that’s worried that he might…want out, if this goes down the wrong way. Charlee hoofed me in the shin and pinched my arm when I confided that in her last week after making the appointment. She’s the only one who knows the real reason I was there today.
I know I need to tell him eventually, and I will. And Casey. And my dad. Fuck.
