Page 38 of Defended By Bam
Chapter 20
Brooklyn
A woman walked me down the white, very sterile looking, hallway. The place was a stark contrast to the pediatrician's office Sadie went to. Their office was bright with loads of pictures, different colors, a working train that lined the span of the three different waiting rooms, one for infants and the other two split for sick and well visits, and huge saltwater aquariums that separated each one.
I followed the woman in scrubs into a small side room. It was barren, save a chair with a blood pressure cuff, a scale, and a counter with nothing on it.
“Let’s get your weight. And do you know how tall you are?” she asked.
Hopping up on the scale, I squinted as if it would change the number. One sixty-five. I had lost weight. I hadn’t been trying to but I guess that’s what happens when you’re stuck in fight or flight mode. “Umm, five six.”
“When was your last menstrual cycle? Have a seat.”
I took the chair pushed against the wall. “Uh, started two weeks ago.”
“Do you have any menstrual issues to discuss and is there any chance you’re pregnant?”
“I don’t know. I took a Plan B last week.”
“Okay, we’ll double check when we get a urine sample. Hold your arm like this, feet flat please.” The woman checked my blood pressure, temperature, and pulse ox; all normal.
She grabbed a sterile cup and a wipe and handed it to me. “Let’s get a clean catch. Be sure to write your name on the cup and there’s a door in the bathroom to leave it in.” I stood up and she walked me around the corner. “When you’re done, have a seat right there,” she said, motioning to a new waiting area, also devoid of any decor.
“Yes, ma’am.”
I left my sample, then washed my hands and headed to the small waiting room. The wait was short, and she led me down a hall, into a room.
She instructed me to have a seat, then asked a series of questions about medications, my history, family history, then asked the million-dollar question. “Are there any specific concerns you’d like to discuss with the doctor today?”
The question hit me like a ton of bricks. It had been less than a week since we arrived here and the discussion I had with Bama about being checked came back to me. “Well, I guess I wanted to make sure my ex didn’t give me something I can’t pronounce.” My fingers fidgeted together.
But the woman didn’t seem to bat an eye as she made her notes. Then she stood, pulling items from a drawer and laying them out on the counter. “The doctor is going to come speak to you first, then he’ll call me back in before the exam. Go ahead and disrobe, removing panties and bra as well, and put this on, then wait on the table. You want it to open in the front.”
She handed me a huge paper robe before she promptly left the room. I did as instructed and waited, my legs swinging nervously.
Only a few minutes went by but it seemed like an eternity when a knock came on the door. I wobbly answered, “Come in.” That was always so awkward. What else do you say?Go the fuck away?But I understood why they did it. It was still odd to me.
A man in a white lab coat over blue scrubs walked in. He maybe was in his thirties from what I could tell, but had a few lines on his forehead and a very small touch of grey on his temples. He was clean shaven, and the rest of his hair was dark brown that matched his kind eyes. “Good morning. I’m Dr. Hanes, but you can call me Sam,” he said as he extended a hand. It was freezing cold and all I could think was he was about to put those icicles on me, and in me.
“Thanks for seeing me.”
He pulled the rolling stool over and had a seat. “I’ll be straight with you, Brooklyn. Bama mentioned some abuse and I see some evidence plain as day now. Can you share the extent of the injuries? I need to know before I perform the physical exam, so I don’t harm you.”
A lump formed in my throat but I coughed to clear it away. That helped, but I still had to take a deep breath. I didn’t want to burst into tears in front of the doctor. “There was some other…assault.” I couldn’t say the word. Which was fucking stupid. He did it to me. But saying it out loud was too hard.
Dr. Sam Hanes nodded. “I see. That helps.”
“I’m not filing charges.” The words came out so fast they practically bled together. “I don’t want a kit or whatever.”
“Understood.” He smiled, then said, “Hammer and his friends don’t tend to get the police involved in these matters. Did you want me to check for STIs today?”
Nodding, I clasped my hands together, squeezing to keep from fidgeting. “Can I maybe get some birth control as well?”
“Yep. Pill, shot, patch, gel? What’s your preference?”
“I don’t know if I can get a prescription filled right now.” I had no identity so I wasn’t even sure what he could write for me.
“We get loads of samples here. So, think it over and we can circle back once we’re done. Anything else you want to discuss? Mentally doing okay?”
