Page 22 of Power Move
Then, one day, I just couldn’t function. I texted Ellie on the train headed to work.
ME
The meds they gave me aren’t working.
ELLIE
Call them and ask for something else.
ME
I doubt they will. They haven’t seen me.
ELLIE
If they are worth anything, they will. You always get sick.
ME
It’s not this bad usually.
ELLIE
Remind yourself that it’s a good sign.
It was increasingly difficult to do that. My back hurt. I constantly fell asleep—something made worse by the useless medication. It made me too drowsy to function so much that Mom worried I’d picked up a drinking habit. I told her repeatedly I was off the sauce, which confused her more. On top ofthatgrief, my back was constantly killing me, and I still did barn chores to look productive. I kept riding on days I felt well enough. Poco hadn’t let out a buck in years and if it was good enough for Her Majesty the Queen to ride while pregnant, it was good enough for me.
I messaged my doctor’s portal and waited. By the time I made it to the office, they replied and said they would send a script to the pharmacy near my home. This, of course wouldn’t work. So, I had to call and tell them to transfer it.
I was exhausted and seasick. It was already getting close to lunch when I felt rain—raininmy office.
“Holy shit! It’s raining!” I said loudly.
But it wasn’t. A pipe exploded above my head. The dribble turned to a downright downpour by the time I grabbed my laptop and phone to thankfully spare them. By now, I was dripping wet and standing in the hallway, unsure what to say.
“Help!” I said. “I have… a downpour?”
Our Chief Influencer Officer, Chloe Markham, and her assistant entered from her office, staring confused. Daphne came around the corner. Everyone stared in horror as water poured.
“Call maintenance, Lucy,” Daphne said. “Send them to Eva’s office. Eva, I have to leave for my diabetes test in half an hour. I’ll be gone for most of the afternoon, so take my office.”
“The baby beetus,” Chloe joked. “Good luck.”
“I swear there are about five foods I can presently consume without losing it. If they take even more out of my cold, dead hands, I’ll revolt.”
Oh, joy! I worried she’d figure out why I was constantly using the bathroom, but I’d ducked her so far.
“Thanks. I will gladly take the offer.”
“Why don’t you run and get some food while they sort this out,” Chloe said. “You look rattled.”
The only thing that sounded good were the huge Swedish cinnamon buns in the cafe downstairs. I elected to get two and save one for later in the day along with a half-caf cup of coffee. By the time I returned, I spotted my reflection in a mirror and realized my entire blouse and bra were soaked through. With my painful always-awake nipples there, it was dangerous. I had a change of clothes in my gym bag for the chance I got to use the membership to the club next door that gave us three free day-passes a week. That rarely happened, but it was a nice thought.
So, in a running skort and workout top, I’d finish my day. Given the top was too revealing, I pulled an old hoodie on andapologized to everyone for my disastrous appearance. My assistant sent my outfit to the dry cleaners. Fortunately, in a sports bra top, my tits were the comfiest they’d been at work since this whole thing began. I breathed a sigh of relief and settled in Daphne’s office with my cinnamon buns and coffee.
I ate one, then looked at the other while typing emails. All was well until a sudden urge to vomit hit. Thankfully, Daphne had her own attached bathroom—the perks of being the prez—and I rushed to vomit in peace and into a clean bowl.
“Fuck,” I groaned. “Could this daygetany worse?”
