me be sick. Please don’t let me have cancer. Don’t let me die. Please. Not now. Not of this. Please let me see my babies grow up. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve this, but please don’t punish them for whatever it is. Please, God, don’t. Please.
She started to think about what she might have done to make this happen to her, but stopped as soon as she began. She knew thinking like that wasn’t going to help. She also knew that although she wasn’t perfect, she was a good person. A good mother. A good wife.
I’ve got to calm down. This is silly. There’s nothing wrong with me. Nothing. That’s all there is to it. Nothing! I just have to get a hold of myself. Got to be tough. Strong. Everything’s going to be fine. There’s nothing to worry about!
As if to lend form to her resolution, she forced herself to stop looking around the waiting room, snapped open the Better Homes and Gardens on her lap, more or less to the middle of the magazine, and struggled to immerse herself in an article describing the preferred way to plant boxed rose bushes.
By five forty-five, the waiting room was empty except for Peg. She was still sitting in the seat she had selected when she first arrived, in the corner next to the magazine table, her Better Homes and Gardens still on her lap and still opened to the article on boxed rose bushes, when the nurse came to the reception window and slid open one of the sliding glass panels.
“Mrs. Herbert?” she called out too loudly given there was no one else in the waiting room. “The doctor will see you now.”
Peg closed her magazine and tried to appear calm as she walked across the waiting room to the door that the nurse was holding open. As she entered what appeared to be an administrative area, a young man to her left got up from behind one of the desks and came over to her, his hand extended.
“Mrs. Herbert? I’m Dr. Goldstein. Nice to meet you.”
Peg shook his hand, managed a quiet “Hi” and a wan smile, and tried to hide her surprise and disappointment.
Unlike Dr. Edwards, Dr. Goldstein was young, in his early thirties at most, and unlike Dr. Edwards, his appearance was totally unimpressive. He was about five-six and soft looking. Almost pudgy. He wore wire-framed glasses, and his dark brown curly hair, which came well over his collar, looked as if it had not been combed for days. He wore wrinkled chinos and an equally wrinkled checkered button-down shirt. And although his greeting was polite, his demeanor was abrupt. In short, he wasn’t another Dr. Edwards, and somehow at this moment, another Dr. Edwards was precisely what she needed.
He picked up a file from the reception nurse’s desk, glanced at it to confirm it was the one he wanted, and started to walk down a short hall. With his free hand and without saying anything more, he gestured to her that she should follow him.
“Audrey, join us in a minute, will you?” he called over his shoulder to the nurse who had ushered her in from the waiting room. Then without turning around and still a step or two in front of her, he addressed Peg. “Dr. Edwards faxed me a copy of his examination report and your lab report, but I’d still like to examine you before we talk.”
He stopped, turned to face her and indicated an open door on the left that led into one of his examination rooms. “Right here,” he said with a weak smile.
Peg entered and stopped in the center of the room, awaiting further instructions.
“There’s a gown on the examination table there,” he said from the doorway, pointing to a carefully folded square of pale yellow material at the foot of the table. “Get undressed, and I’ll be back in a minute.” Without waiting for a reply, he pulled the door closed.
Peg did as she was told, carefully laying first her blouse, then her brassiere, then her slacks on one of the two chairs, and pulled on the pale yellow gown. She had just finished securing the gown’s ties behind her neck when
She started to think about what she might have done to make this happen to her, but stopped as soon as she began. She knew thinking like that wasn’t going to help. She also knew that although she wasn’t perfect, she was a good person. A good mother. A good wife.
I’ve got to calm down. This is silly. There’s nothing wrong with me. Nothing. That’s all there is to it. Nothing! I just have to get a hold of myself. Got to be tough. Strong. Everything’s going to be fine. There’s nothing to worry about!
As if to lend form to her resolution, she forced herself to stop looking around the waiting room, snapped open the Better Homes and Gardens on her lap, more or less to the middle of the magazine, and struggled to immerse herself in an article describing the preferred way to plant boxed rose bushes.
By five forty-five, the waiting room was empty except for Peg. She was still sitting in the seat she had selected when she first arrived, in the corner next to the magazine table, her Better Homes and Gardens still on her lap and still opened to the article on boxed rose bushes, when the nurse came to the reception window and slid open one of the sliding glass panels.
“Mrs. Herbert?” she called out too loudly given there was no one else in the waiting room. “The doctor will see you now.”
Peg closed her magazine and tried to appear calm as she walked across the waiting room to the door that the nurse was holding open. As she entered what appeared to be an administrative area, a young man to her left got up from behind one of the desks and came over to her, his hand extended.
“Mrs. Herbert? I’m Dr. Goldstein. Nice to meet you.”
Peg shook his hand, managed a quiet “Hi” and a wan smile, and tried to hide her surprise and disappointment.
Unlike Dr. Edwards, Dr. Goldstein was young, in his early thirties at most, and unlike Dr. Edwards, his appearance was totally unimpressive. He was about five-six and soft looking. Almost pudgy. He wore wire-framed glasses, and his dark brown curly hair, which came well over his collar, looked as if it had not been combed for days. He wore wrinkled chinos and an equally wrinkled checkered button-down shirt. And although his greeting was polite, his demeanor was abrupt. In short, he wasn’t another Dr. Edwards, and somehow at this moment, another Dr. Edwards was precisely what she needed.
He picked up a file from the reception nurse’s desk, glanced at it to confirm it was the one he wanted, and started to walk down a short hall. With his free hand and without saying anything more, he gestured to her that she should follow him.
“Audrey, join us in a minute, will you?” he called over his shoulder to the nurse who had ushered her in from the waiting room. Then without turning around and still a step or two in front of her, he addressed Peg. “Dr. Edwards faxed me a copy of his examination report and your lab report, but I’d still like to examine you before we talk.”
He stopped, turned to face her and indicated an open door on the left that led into one of his examination rooms. “Right here,” he said with a weak smile.
Peg entered and stopped in the center of the room, awaiting further instructions.
“There’s a gown on the examination table there,” he said from the doorway, pointing to a carefully folded square of pale yellow material at the foot of the table. “Get undressed, and I’ll be back in a minute.” Without waiting for a reply, he pulled the door closed.
Peg did as she was told, carefully laying first her blouse, then her brassiere, then her slacks on one of the two chairs, and pulled on the pale yellow gown. She had just finished securing the gown’s ties behind her neck when
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