Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 66767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
If you don’t elect to use a midwife or drive to the teaching hospital in Minneapolis for prenatal care, you come to Lake Drive Obstetrics and Gynecology.
I can’t afford to lose my cool or control of this ship.
There’s literally no one else to step in and take the wheel if I falter.
So, I never have.
But then, I’ve never encountered a patient like the one waiting for me when I arrive Monday morning…
“There’s a squirrel in there,” she screeches, pacing back and forth in front of the check-in window, her shoulders hunched, and her hands curled into claws. Her curly brown hair sticks up at least six inches in every direction in a fuzzy halo and the pale skin beneath her brown eyes looks bruised with fatigue. “I swear to God, that’s what it feels like. It feels like there’s a rabid squirrel in my uterus, trying to claw its way out.”
“I understand, ma’am,” Betsy, our front desk clerk says through the space in the sliding plastic partition. “But I—”
“Do you?” the woman cuts in, pausing to brace both hands on the edge of the desk. “Do you really? You understand what it’s like to have a wild animal loose in your lady parts, tap dancing on your cervix with its sharp little squirrel claws?”
Betsy’s jaw drops. “Um. Well, no, but I—”
“Then you don’t understand,” the woman says, her voice rising. “You don’t have a clue. So, I’d appreciate it if you’d stop patronizing me and get me in to see the doctor. I’ve read all his reviews. He’s not a quack like the one who did this to me. He’ll be able to fix it.” She drives her clawed hands into her hair, squeezing them into fists. “He has to fix it before the pain drives me fucking insane.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” Betsy says, her eyes widening as she spots me crossing the room to the door leading back to the offices and exam rooms. “But Dr. McGuire doesn’t have any open appointments this morning. And even if he did, we’re not taking new patients at this time.”
“He can work me in,” the woman demands. “He has to work me in. I can’t handle this anymore. Either he gets the squirrel out of me, or I’m getting it out myself.” She reaches into her purse and pulls out an eggbeater, one of the vintage ones that’s operated by a handle on one side.
As far as weapons go, it isn’t much, but the sight of it still sends a ripple of concern through the other patients in the waiting room, and Betsy looks like she’s about to cry as she says, “Please, ma’am. Put the eggbeater down. If I believe you’re a danger to yourself or others, I’ll have to call the police.”
“Good, call the police,” the woman says, her volume rising again as she thrusts the eggbeater into the air. “Call them, and I’ll tell them what doctors in this town are doing to innocent people who just want to be able to have sex without getting pregnant. I’m sure they’ll be interested to learn that last Thursday, I was a perfectly healthy woman. Now, I’m a mental case with a uterus full of angry squirrels.”
“I’ll handle this Betsy,” I say, detouring from my usual course to stop by the desk. I offer a small smile as the woman turns her wild eyes my way. “Hello, I’m Dr. McGuire. Is this about an IUD?”
Almost instantly, the tension in her features eases, her rage replaced by frazzled hope. “Yes! My girlfriend told me it was the best thing ever. She’s had hers for years without any problems and loves it, but it’s killing me. It feels like something’s physically attacking me from the inside.”
“Squirrels, she said,” Betsy pipes up. “Tap-dancing ones.”
The woman shoots her a glare before leaning my way and whispering, “I know there aren’t squirrels in there. I’m not a nutcase. I was just trying to make a point. And the point is that the pain is really bad and weird and bad. It’s seriously making me crazy. I haven’t slept in days.”
My brow furrowed, I say. “I’m so sorry about that. I’ll see what I can do.” Glancing Betsy’s way, I add, “Have her fill out the necessary paperwork and show her to exam room six. I’ll work her in between the other appointments.”
“Will do, Dr. M.,” Betsy says, reaching for a clipboard.
“Thank you so much, doctor,” the woman says, her entire body slumping with relief. “I appreciate it so much. You have no idea.”
“You’re welcome.” I back toward the door. “I hope we can help you.”
“Me, too.” Her eyes narrow on my face in a bit of a strange way, but I don’t have time to wonder what’s on her mind. If I’m going to squeeze another patient into an already crowded morning, I’ll have to work quickly and efficiently. Dropping my jacket, briefcase, and gym bag in my office, I head back out into the hall, rolling up my sleeves as I go.