I’m never going to remember how to get the fuck out of here. It’s all part of their plan. Confuse the fuck out of you so you can never leave. “Why don’t you take a seat?”
I sit my ass down on an old plastic chair that looks like it’s from the 90s and feels just as comfortable as this room. If it means avoiding a doctor’s office, I would choose Jaxon’s uncomfortable chair over this one any day of the week.
People need to start getting better chairs. It’s becoming a thing.
“I’m just going to ask you a few questions and get a blood pressure reading. Do you smoke?” she asks.
“Yes.”
“How many a day?”
And they wonder why I dislike doctors? Who wants to start off a conversation getting interrogated?
“I don’t know. Maybe a half a pack.” On a good day, but I don’t say that.
“Do you drink?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“Four or five a week.”
“Do you do any recreational drugs?”
“I smoke weed every once in a while. Don’t give me the side eye there…” I squint at her name tag. “Mary. It’s legal in a lot of places now.”
“Hey, I’m not here to judge.”
Hmm, that’s what they all say.
She grabs the blood pressure cuff thingy off the hook, and I hear the deafening sound of the Velcro being pulled apart. The sound has the same effect as nails on a chalkboard.
She wraps it around my arm. This is where the fun part comes in. We sit in uncomfortable silence as I pretend the cuff is not pinching the ever-loving shit out of my skin.
“Try to keep still,” she says as my leg bounces erratically. Obviously, Mary has never met me, but I try my hardest to do as I’m told.
Mary would be a natural at poker. She gives no indication of good or bad as she unfastens the cuff. There’s a tiny possibility that Mary is actually a card shark pretending to be a nurse. Or a government spy. Ooooh, I bet if she was a government spy she would have classified information, like maybe whether a certain big, furry sasquatch is real.
“Hey, Mary? How much do you know about Sasquatch?” I ask, narrowing my eyes to see if I can get her to crack. She, of course, does no such thing. She just rolls her eyes as she finishes entering information into the computer and I try to rein in all the different scenarios going through my mind.
“Okay, Doctor Withermore should be in shortly,” Mary says, getting up and making her way out of the office and closing the door behind her, leaving me sitting in the silence of a soundproof room.
I don’t like the quiet. The quiet makes the thoughts swimming around in my head too loud, especially when I don’t have an outlet at the moment to expel the negativity.
My thumb begins to tap out a beat against my thigh as I take in the room. It’s the same as every other exam room. It’s small, with posters of the human body and a rack full of medical pamphlets hanging on the wall.
And why the fuck is it always so bright in here?
Have I mentioned yet how much I hate going to the doctor?
No?
Well, I would rather stab my foot with a piercing gun.
Finally, there’s a swift knock and the exam room door opens, the man of the hour walking in.
“Hey, Jasper.”
