Here's "just a taste" that I hope will whet your appetite:
Hope’s
high heels clicked against the tile floor and reverberated in the
emptiness as she hurried down the medical clinic’s long corridor.
She glanced at her watch and grimaced. Great! Late for her
appointment with her new doctor. Some first impression she’d make.
The thought brought an immediate chuckle. Silly her for thinking
doctors ever sat and waited for their patients.
Her
moment of glee faded and her palms dampened at the prospect of the
ritualistic feminine torture called an exam. On the menu today loomed
the dreaded mammogram. That test had to have been developed by a man
with a genuine hatred for women. Another female would never think of
putting a ‘sister’ through such agony. She clasped her breast in
anticipation and grimaced. If only she was on a beach in Hawaii
instead of feeling like she was on her way to the gallows.
A
slight pause before entering Dr. Carlson’s suite helped fortify her
for the coming trial. It seemed odd to see an unfamiliar name on the
wall plaque, especially since she’d been a patient of Dr. Daniel
Smith’s for so many years. She blinked back tears, feeling she’d
lost an old friend.
After
a deep breath, she turned the knob and stopped in the doorway to gaze
at the packed waiting area. All eyes turned to inspect her, sending a
warming flush up her neck. With a forced smile, she crossed the ecru
carpeting, wrote her name on the check-in list, and searched for an
empty seat. The only remaining one was in the far corner next to the
water cooler. Convenient, since the long walk from the parking lot
left her feeling parched.
Hope
traversed the room, avoiding the crossed and puffy feet clogging the
aisle. It appeared she was the only person there who wasn’t
pregnant… and clearly the oldest. Why didn’t OB/GYN doctors have
separate waiting rooms? She felt like the lone spotted pup in a
litter of black ones, only not quite so cute.
Rather
than leave her chair, she stretched across the armrest to fill a cup.
The water soothed her dry throat but did little to quell the nervous
feeling in her stomach. Despite being familiar with the process, it
still made her queasy. She glanced at the door and took the last sip
of water, fighting the urge to leave.
Her
gaze searched for and found the trash receptacle about six feet away.
Not eager to become the object of unwanted stares again, or lose her
seat, she wadded the pleated paper into a ball and risked a rim shot
at the can. Luckily, the cup teetered on the wastebasket’s edge
then fell inside. Another woman watched from the other side of the
room. Hope shrugged her shoulders and flashed a childlike grin, then
sheepishly picked up a magazine. While she absentmindedly thumbed
through the pages, her gaze wandered to the swollen belly of the
young lady next to her.
A
pang of sadness stabbed at Hope’s heart. The girl probably had a
husband…and a home that would soon hold a complete family. Thoughts
of Alan, her beloved husband taken three years ago in an automobile
accident, blurred Hope’s eyes. Although she’d prayed for children
for years, they’d never been able to conceive. Evidently God hadn’t
heard her pleas.
At
forty-nine and a widow, the parent ship sailed long ago. The only
baby in her life was Chloe, her Maltese puppy. She blew an upward
stream of air to dry her eyes then surveyed the crowd. Opening the
magazine again, she settled in for a long wait.
The
reception window opened with a squeal reminiscent of fingernails on a
blackboard. She shivered and flashed back to grammar school—an
amazing recollection given the time passed.
“Hope
Harrison?” the woman behind the counter called.
Hope
went to the window. “That’s me.”
The
gray-haired receptionist handed her a clipboard. “I need you to
fill this out. Since you’re a new patient, we need to update your
file.”
“But…but
I’m not new, the doctor is.”
The
elder woman clearly forced an impatient smile. “Well, dear, you’re
new to the doctor, so please…”
Hope
accepted the form and turned in time to see someone claiming her
seat. Her feet hurt from being stuffed into pretentious shoes she
never should have worn, and now she had no place to sit.
She
glanced around the room, counting patients. How many did this doctor
see in a day? The wait would take forever. Maybe she should
reschedule. There! She’d found the reason she needed. Stacks of
tapes at home were in need of transcription. Just as she convinced
herself to take flight, a nurse appeared in the doorway and summoned
her.
Hope’s
eyes widened. How could that be? She’d been one of the last to
arrive. She waved the clipboard at the woman. “But, I haven’t
completed my form yet.”
“That’s
okay. Follow me and you can finish in the exam room.”
They
stopped first at the scale. Hope grimaced, but stepped on and closed
her eyes. Her efforts to remain in the dark were for naught when the
nurse announced her weight for all to hear. Hope’s cheeks warmed,
but at least she knew why her clothes felt a little tighter. She’d
gained fifteen pounds since last time she’d stepped on a scale.
When had that been?
The
nurse motioned toward an open door.
Hope
sat in the lone chair and completed her paperwork. Her eyes
occasionally wandered to the draped table and waiting stirrups; dread
gnawed at her. She still had time to leave. But, with a deep breath,
she squared her shoulders. Fleeing was a preferable choice, not an
option. It wasn’t like she was the only woman in the world who
endured this torture. Besides, what could be worse than finding out
she didn’t weigh one-twenty-five anymore? She’d weighed that
since her wedding. Visions of Jenny Craig and NutriSystem
flashed through her mind.
“Be
brave,” the little angel on her right shoulder whispered in her
ear. She turned a deaf ear to the little devil on her left shoulder
who encouraged her to run like the wind.
*******
If this had made you want to read more....you can find Hope Springs Eternal on my Amazon author's page. It's also featured at Eternal Press.
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