Doctor's Office

I remember the constant questions my mother asked me: “Where is the pain?” “How do you feel today?” “Is it getting worse or better?” I often became annoyed at these maternal questions: “I’m fine.” “Stop asking me.” My gratitude for her empathy was nonexistent. I didn’t want to entertain the notion of having a disease. I did not want to believe it was real. I went my whole life without having long-term health detriments; until now.

I walked into an elevator that spanned only 3 floors. My stop was the second one. My mother mumbled some words to me but I was busy listening to the subtle change of floors as we passed them. I had never been in such a smoothly transitional elevator. I stared at the 3 numbers that stacked on top of each other near the exit. Number one was red, and I was hoping, number three would be the next to share a similar trait. Instead, number two turned into a deathly red that I swear was darker than the shade of number one. Seconds later the elevator doors parted. My mother’s heels clacked before me, then I stepped out into the small waiting room. The sound of over-opinionated news personalities filled the room, causing me to turn towards the TV. Quickly my attention escaped to the sound of papers ruffling. I said my name to the first person I saw. “Christopher Sirico”

            “Hello Chris, Doctor Guma will be ready for you shortly.” It wasn’t shortly. I sat in this cramped office for nearly 45 minutes before he saw me. I flipped through magazine after magazine, played all the games I had in my phone, and even felt compelled to try to make sense of the talking heads speaking gibberish on the flat screen. The wait was very tedious to say the least. Once the 45 minutes passed, and right before my mother was about to use Chinese interrogation tactics to the lady behind the desk, a nurse appeared through a door calling my name. “Christopher Sirico? The doctor is ready to see you.”

My initial reflex was to say “Oh, he’s finally done contemplating life?” But instead, I acted like the goody two shoes no one knows me for being and continued through the doorway. The nurse took me down the hall, to the left, and into a room for my examination. I immediately jumped onto the hard leather seat that was semi-covered with a strip of rough paper. She instantly began to ask me questions. After surpassing the generic information to confirm that I am “Chris Sirico”, she asked me about my past medical history.

 “Any surgeries?”

“Nope”

“Any chronic illnesses?”

“Nope”

“Do you currently have to take medication?”

“I am pill-free lady” I smiled at her, but she seemed rather annoyed with my arrogant humor, so I quickly put that smile away. “Any other questions? I can do this all day”

“No that will be it. The doctor will be with you shortly.”

“Alrighty then.” The nurse left the room. After the exchange I quickly turned my attention to my mother sitting in the corner. I was looking to see if she would give me the stop-being-an-asshole face like usual, but instead I only saw a wrinkling forehead and anxious eyes. The worry on her face made me look away instantly, in fear that it would completely shatter my heart if I looked for any longer. Luckily the doctor came in before I had the chance to take a glimpse at her again.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hjwkbhrzHck