Page 119 of Degradation
Her eyes are hard and assessing and her lip curves up into what might be a small sneer, but I’m not sure.
‘Name.’
‘Marguerite Evans.’
‘Rough night?’ she sniffs, raising a brow.
‘Yes,’ I say.
She snorts as she types my name and clicks the mouse a few times, muttering something under her breath that I don’t hear.
‘Sit down. You’ll be called,’ she says, not looking at me again.
My vision in my left eye is going blurry now.
‘Any idea how long?—’
‘You’llbe called.’
I take a step back at her nasty tone and turn away, going to sit on one of the chairs close by so that I don’t miss my name beingcalled.
I close my eyes to avoid the fluorescents, putting my good arm on the armrest of the uncomfortable chair and using it to prop up my heavy head.
I feel someone sit next to me and glance over to see Greg.
‘I haven’t been able to contact them, but I left them messages. Any idea how long you’ll be here?’
I shake my head. ‘I’ll be called.’
‘Want some water?’
‘No, thanks,’ I whisper, closing my eyes again.
I’m not sure how much time passes, but Greg gets up at least three times and quite a few students come and go before another nurse walks through the door and finally says my name.
I stand on shaky legs, waving Greg away when he tries to help. ‘I’m okay.’
I follow the nurse slowly down a hall with a yellowing linoleum floor that reeks of disinfectant, making me nervous and on-edge.
I’m put in a room and told to wait. The clocks says it’s almost ten thirty. I’ve been here for hours.
Luckily, I’m only waiting a few minutes before a man in a white coat comes through the door. I try to temper my sharp intake of breath. I see people in white coats all the time in the lab and they don’t affect me like this. I need to calm down and stop being silly.
‘Okay. Good morning, Miss...Evans. I’m Doctor Stall. What seems to be the problem?’
‘I...get hemiplegic migraines.’ I force the words out, not looking at the balding doctor who’s now sitting at the desk in front of me and not wasting time with pleasantries.
My good hand delves into my pocket, and I pull out the empty blister pack.
‘I had these in the UK, but I’m out. Can you give me the same thing here?’
Doctor Stall takes the packaging from me and frowns at it. ‘I’m sure we can help, Miss Evans. Let me just find the US equivalent and we’ll get you fixed up in no time. For now, I’ll take your temperature, and we’ll get your blood pressure, too, okay?’
I nod, pushing away the revulsion I feel at taking my coat off and being poked and prodded by medical staff.
There’s a knock at the door.
‘Apologies,’ the doctor murmurs and then in a louder voice. ‘Come in.’
