But not this time.
It’smyturn to lead this dance between us, and the friend zone is where he lives now.
And it’s where he’ll stay.
A soft knock startles me as the door swings open. “Hi, Jordan. How are you today?”
I set the magazine aside and meet Dr. Sawai’s gaze with a polite smile, pushing thoughts of Matt away. “Hi. I’m good, thanks.”
She settles onto her stool, clicking a few keys. “So, Jackie mentioned you’ve been having some irregular spotting?”
“Yeah. It’s kind of random. Some cramping and bloating, too. Which is weird because I haven’t had any issues since the first few months with the IUD. But it’s been almost four years, so I figured maybe it’s just time to replace it.”
Dr. Sawai nods, typing something into the computer. “Irregular bleeding after a few years with an IUD isn’t uncommon. It may have shifted a bit, or it might just be nearing the end of its lifespan. I’ll take a look today and then order an ultrasound just to be thorough. If everything looks good, we can talk about replacing it afterward.”
I nod. “Okay. Sounds good.”
She pulls on a pair of gloves with a soft snap. “All right, go ahead and slide down toward me a little.”
I take a deep breath and scootch down, the paper crinkling beneath me. I settle my feet into the stirrups and stare at the ceiling, letting my mind wander.
Back to the magazine article…
Back to Matt.
The ultrasound techis kind and chatty, explaining as she goes. I stare at the ceiling again, pretending I’m anywhere but here, listening to the faint clicks of buttons. Every pause feels louder than it should.
“Everything okay?” I finally ask.
“I’m just getting all the angles for Dr. Sawai,” she says with a smile that’s a little too tight.
Right.
My pulse doesn’t get the memo.
I went down a rabbit hole while I was waiting for the tech, Googling every possible reason I might need an ultrasound. Most of them pointed to the obvious: expired IUD. But a few mentioned precancerous cells, and just seeing that makes it impossible to settle my brain. God, I even planned how I’d tell my family if it was bad.
I wouldn’t.
I wouldn’t tell anyone.
Once she finishes, she wipes the gel off my stomach and helps me sit up.
A few minutes later, I’m back in the exam room, half dressed and trying not to spiral.
Dr. Sawai walks in and pulls her stool close before she sits.
“So,” she begins gently, “your IUD is still in place, which is good. Your uterine lining is just a little thicker than I expect with an IUD, but that can happen with hormone shifts or toward the end of its lifespan.”
“Okay… is that bad?”God, I feel like I’m gonna puke.
“Not necessarily,” she says immediately. “It’s a common variation as an IUD gets older. I’m not concerned, but I’m noting it so we can keep an eye on it and compare it at your next visit.”
I swallow, hesitating. “I hate to be this person, but I Googled while I was waiting, and… I read something about precancerous cells. Is that why we’re keeping an eye on it?”
My pulse thumps rapidly.Jesus. Get your shit together, Jordan.
“Oh, the dreaded Google.” Dr. Sawai smiles softly. “As long as it doesn’t grow or change, it’s nothing to worry about. If the bleeding and cramping are bothering you, we can switch the IUD out right now. Or we can always do a six-month follow-up if that helps ease your mind, but this isn’t something I’m concerned about today.” She meets my eyes. “And you don’t need to be either.”
