“That was the first thing I square-rooted. One of the plastic surgeons turned me on to Dermablend. Works great. Great for zits too. And if people persist, I tell them I poured a hot cup of tea on myself when I was little. The stripes stay hidden beneath my swimsuit.”
“Are you able to lie back? I’d like to examine your breasts, belly and genitals,” Russ advised.
She inhaled and closed her eyes. Her body tensed.
“Exhale. I don’t want you to pass out.” Russ cocked his head.
“I can go four minutes pretty easily,” she said.
“How about I trust you on that and you don’t.” Russ gloved and started on her left breast. “How long has it been since the reconstruction failed?”
She shuddered. “Since the last attempt, three years ago.”
“Would you consider meeting with one of our plastic surgeons? The technology has changed. And you have healthy breast tissue.”
“I guess.” She shrugged.
“Arm up.” Russ checked for lumps, then repeated the exam on the other side. “How are you doing?”
“I haven’t jumped off the table. That counts for something.” An anxious laugh filled her space.
“It does. Slide down for me and put your feet in the stirrups.”Russ watched her carefully, looking for signs of panic and pain.
Her anxiety was building. Gwen scooted down and mentally disappeared in her head. “My surgeon tried.”
Trish adjusted the lamp for Russ. “Have you looked at yourself in the mirror? Your surgeon did good work. Trish, hand me a mirror.” Russ held it so she could see. “Gwen.”
Tears flowed as she looked at herself for the first time. “My God.” She pressed her hand to her mouth. “It…it looks…um…not bad.”
“How’s the sensation?” Russ asked.
Gwen averted her eyes. “Um…I don’t know.”
Russ swallowed. “Have you touched yourself?”
She shook her head. “I was afraid. After the surgery, it was so sensitive. And then when that stopped, I was afraid I wouldn’t feel anything.”
“We will talk more in my office. Deep breath, I’m inserting the speculum. Two swabs.”Russ adjusted the light.
She felt each swab, jumping with them. “Mmm,” she groaned.
“Does that hurt?” Russ sounded concerned. “Are you always this sore during your cycle?”
“I don’t have my period. I spot sometimes,” Gwen whispered.
“Trish, get me two culture tubes. I’m sorry. Two more swabs.”
Gwen cried out.
“Were you raped during your captivity?” Russ asked.
Gwen covered her face with her hands. “Yes, and sodomized.”
“A little pressure. Two fingers and I’m pushing on your belly.” As Russ pressed, Gwen cried out in pain and shoved Russ’s hand away. “Gwen, does it hurt like this all the time?” He stripped off a yellow-tinged glove.
“Only during my cycle,” she admitted.
He applied a fresh pair of gloves. “Last part of the exam. I’m going to insert the tip of my finger into your bottom. I’m also going to take a swab. On three.” Russ talked her through it.
