Blaire
Blaire Pritchard, MHRM, BBA, Director of Human Resources at Info-Tech Inc, PTA President, Proud Mom of Hannah and Will
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List of things to bring up with doctor:
- scratchy throat/always feeling like I’m coming down with something
- hormone replacement therapy
- iron levels
- thyroid
- insomnia
- weird mole on Mike’s shoulder
God, it was freezing in here. Why the hell did they make you put the paper gown on, then leave you to sit so long? And how could she be freezingandsweaty at the same time? Jess didn’t have to check her underarms to know they didn’t exactly smell spring fresh. She could feel that she had the stress sweats.
Her stomach growled loudly. She should have had breakfast. She knew the doctor would be running late. But no, she just had to tell herself she’d be in and out in under an hour, especially if she got there early. Which she didn’t.Stupid, Jess. So stupid.
She’d been meaning to put a small container of almonds in her purse for just such an occasion, but she only thought of it when she was out and got hungry. When she was actually home and could do something about it, it never popped into her mind.
There went her stomach again. Maybe if she had some water, it would quiet down. She got up and walked over to the sink, holding the gown shut behind her even though she was alone. Bending at the waist, she tipped her head to the side under the faucet and took a few long gulps of the cold water.
There was a sharp knock at the door and she straightened up, quickly shutting off the tap. There was no way she could make it back to the chair. Dr. Kildorf would know she was illegally using his sink. “Come in,” she called cheerfully, as if this was her house and he was her neighbor she’d invited over for some coffee cake.
The door swung open as she wiped the water off her chin and contorted her body so her butt wasn’t facing Dr. Kildorf. He stopped in his tracks and gave her a strange look.
“I got thirsty,” she told him, trying to sidle back to the table.
“Hmph.” Oh, so His Highnessdiddisapprove?
A young man followed him into the tiny room. He was so young, he looked like a child playing dress-up, with a lab coat and a stethoscope slung around his neck. Instead of a dress shirt and a tie, he was wearing a tight polo shirt that showed off his hours at the gym. Oh great. Just what she needed. A millennial to help with her perimenopausal problems. Or was he too young to be a millennial? Probably Gen Z, like her children. Even worse.
“This is Dr. Foster,” Dr. Kildorf announced. “He’s doing his family medicine rotation here for the next few weeks. You don’t mind if he sits in with us, do you?”
Yes, actually, I do. Get the eff out, Dr. Too-Much-Cologne.“Not at all.”
Dr. Foster held out a hand. “Call me Braxton.”
Oh, Jesus. They shook, then Jess climbed up onto the table and sat down where she should have been all along. Braxton walked directly over to the counter and squirted some hand-sanitizer into his palm. Twice. As if that wasn’t a little insulting.
“So, Jessica, what’s brought you in today?”
Mind blank. So blank.Why was she here again? Stress B.O.? Blank mind? “Let me grab my journal. I wrote it all down.”
Dr. Kildorf said, “Uh-oh, that’s not a good sign.”
He and Dr. Too-Young-To-Rent-a-Car shared a condescending chuckle while she scrambled off the table and dug around in her enormous purse.
She found the list, then stood awkwardly in place. “Here. So, oh… well, Mike has a weird mole on the back of his shoulder. Can I show you a picture? He’s way too swamped at work to come in.”
Also, he didn’t give a rat’s ass about it, even though it kept Jessica up at night.
“Sure,” Dr. Kildorf answered.
