Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 121210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
“Here,” she says, handing me a clipboard through the opening. “If you’ll just fill out some of these forms with your info, I’ll let the doctor know you’re here, and she’ll get to you shortly.”
I take a pen from the cup and then sit down in the corner to fill out all my information. It’s pretty quick and easy since I don’t have medical insurance, and as soon as I turn the clipboard in again, they go ahead and wave me back.
It’s a tiny office with just one doctor, so it makes sense that I’d be the only one here for my appointment since it’s a scheduled time.
“Hi,” a brunette nurse in blue scrubs and stylish white sneakers greets as I step through the door. “Josie Ellis, right?”
I nod. “That’s me.”
“I’m Lindsey, Dr. Masterson’s nurse.” Her smile is friendly as she waves me forward to follow her. “Come on back. We’ll do your height and weight first, and then I’ll give you a cup to give me a quick urine sample, okay? It said in your appointment notes that you’ve been having some trouble sleeping?”
I lick my lips, moving my head up and down. “Y…yes. My grandmother passed recently, and I…I’ve been struggling a bit.”
Her eyes melt in compassion, and she reaches out to touch my elbow softly. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
My voice sounds raw as I reply, “Thank you.”
“Well, don’t worry, okay? Dr. Masterson is going to do a full checkup today just to make sure we’re not dealing with anything underlying, and then we’ll go over all the ways we might be able to help.”
“That sounds good.”
She smiles softly. “Go ahead and step on the scale for me.”
I do, and she writes down my weight on the clipboard in her hand. For the first time in my life, I don’t even pay attention to how much it is. It’s a funny thing, being a woman, but evidently, if you’re dealing with enough other stuff, being skinny actually stops mattering.
She moves a spindle above my head and writes down my height too, and I step off the scale and pick my purse up off the chair I set it on.
“Here,” she says, handing me a clear plastic cup with a blue lid and a Sharpie marker. “I know you’re the only one here right now, but go ahead and write your name on the label and then give me a sample in the cup. You don’t have to fill it. Just about halfway is good enough.”
“Okay.”
“Then just bring it out with you and set it on the sink in this room right here.” She gestures to the exam room behind her.
I give her a thumbs-up. Seems simple enough.
It doesn’t take me long in the bathroom to pee in the cup and seal it up, wash my hands, and gather myself enough in the mirror to come back out, and when I do, Nurse Lindsey is waiting.
I put the cup on the sink and my purse on the chair in the corner and climb up onto the crinkly white paper of the exam table.
She dips test strips inside the cup and lays them out on the counter on top of a medical-grade sheet, and then she smiles as she walks to the door. “Dr. Masterson will be right in, okay?”
“Thanks.”
Hands in my lap, I scour the signs in the room, looking for something of interest to occupy my time. I read one about HPV and another about school physicals and then finish up on a poster of the human body with arrows pointing to each and every major muscle.
I turn my head to read one of the weird names for something in the groin area, and the door swings open with the doctor’s arrival.
She’s blond and petite, and her hair is pulled halfway back in a long silver barrette. “Hi, Josie. I’m Dr. Masterson.” She holds out a hand, and I take it, shaking firmly before she steps over to the sink to wash her hands.
As she washes, she glances at the now-developed test strips Lindsey took in my pee. Fascinatingly, her hands screech to a stop, pausing completely mid-wash.
A couple seconds later, she starts back up again until she finishes, shutting off the water and drying her hands with a paper towel before turning to me. “Lindsey said you’re here to talk about some options to help with sleeping and general stress levels from a loved one’s passing.”
I nod. “Yes. My grandma passed away about a month and a half ago.”
There’s a careful look on her face I can’t quite decipher, and she pulls up a stool to sit in front of me, her clasped hands pursed in front of her chest. “I’m sorry for your loss, and I think there are definitely some things we can do to help. But, Josie…I’d like to talk first about one of your urine tests.”