“I’m going to go get some coffee,” said Megan.
“Oh, sure,” said Jillian.
After Megan left, the phone rang.
“Good afternoon, doctors’ office,” said Jillian. “Oh, sure. Dr. Schraeder sees patients on Tuesday mornings and Thursday afternoons. Her first available appointment is one-thirty on the sixth.”
“Well, don’t you have anything sooner?” asked the man on the line.
“No, I’m sorry, that’s the earliest availability.”
“Well, I’m having some pretty severe symptoms over here, and I don’t think I can wait a week and a half to come see the doctor,” said the man.
“I’m sorry, sir, but if this is a medical emergency, I’d recommend going to the emergency room.”
“I’m not going to wait two hours in the emergency room just to have them refer me to my own doctor, okay?”
“Okay, I understand that, sir. I understand that this is frustrating, sir.”
“And I work on Tuesdays and Thursdays, so I’m going to need to see the doctor on a Monday or a Saturday,” said the man.
“I’m sorry, sir, that’s not possible.”
“Why is that not possible? Isn’t Dr. Schraeder a professional who cares about the well-being of her patients?”
“Yes, sir, I’m sure she cares about your well-being.”
“Well, it really doesn’t seem that way, the way I’m being treated right now. This is just inconscionable, you know. It’s inconscionable.”
The man was starting to squawk a little and raise his voice.
Jillian didn’t know what inconsciousable meant, but she had a few guesses.
“Sir, okay, maybe if you could tell me some of your symptoms, I could pass them along to Dr. Schraeder, and then maybe she would be able to fit you in sooner.”
“Well, are you a nurse?”
“No, sir, I am the office manager.”
“Well, if you’re not a nurse or if you don’t have any medical training, I don’t know why I should tell you any personal information about my health life. Isn’t that illegal?”
“Sir, I assure you I signed a HIPAA confidentiality form when I was hired, and I take my job very seriously, and I would not betray your privacy, sir.”
“How do I know you’re not lying? Listen, missy, I want to talk to Dr. Schraeder right now, or I’m going to hang up.”
“Sir, please calm down. Dr. Schraeder is not in the office today. I promise you the best way to get in touch with her is to leave a detailed message with me.”
“Well, how are you going to relay the message to her? I want you to give me her cell phone number.”
“Sir, I’m sorry, but I’m not allowed to give out any of her personal contact information.”
“If I hang up, I’m going to call back and get you fired.”
Jillian wished he would, and almost said, “Oh, go ahead, whatever, please just do it.”
“Sir, could I please have your name and telephone number?”
“I already gave you my name. You should have my telephone number there in my chart.”
“Sir, I apologize, but I don’t recall your name.”
“You say you’re the manager? Well, this office is damned, then. What kind of a secretary doesn’t take notes during a phone call?”
“Sir, I am not a secretary, I am an office assistant, and the office manager.”
The man hung up.
That was it.
“No, I’m sorry, I don’t remember talking to anyone like that. I’m sorry, I’m sure I would have let you know if I spoke with someone who got that upset.”
Or, “Sir, no, I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve spoken before. The office manager? I don’t think we even have an office manager.”
The mantra was something about keeping up appearances and believing that God would make things right again and that you shouldn’t be upset or act like anything is wrong because that might bring someone else down or make them upset. It was about acting like you were already in the place you wanted to be in or something. She couldn’t remember the exact line, but the sentiment of it came back to her, flooded her with the approximation of its meaning (vivid, this feeling, clear and strong, but impossible to pin down, you know, just like God was, so that was okay and was a comfort) and then suddenly she knew everything would be okay. She addressed the grating feeling in her soul and told it (her soul) that this feeling would not be around for long, or forever, and that things would be back and up and in working order in a jiff.
She almost vomited.
Megan came back in with a cup of coffee.
“Hey,” she said.
“There were no calls while you were out,” said Jillian.
“Okay,” said Megan.
Later on in the day, near the end of the day, Jillian said, “Oh, hey, Megan, I just wanted you to know that I’m going to be out of the office on the thirty-first, okay?”
“Uh, yeah, that’s fine.”
“Because I have a court date.”
“Okay.”
“It’s for child support payments. I’m going to see if I can get my ex to start helping me out with day care and stuff. It’s eight hundred dollars a month, can you believe that?”
“Uh, no, wow, that’s more than twice my rent.”
“It’s absurd. And with all of the toys and clothes and stuff, and things for the dog, it really adds up, you know?”
“Yeah, I guess so. That’s just one of the reasons I’m glad I don’t have pets or children.”
“Yeah, what are the other reasons?” asked Jillian. There was heat in her voice.
“Time. Also time. And, uh, I guess the idea of being pregnant and having a baby grosses me out.”
Megan shifted uncomfortably in her chair.
“Oh, no, it’s wonderful! It’s hard, but it’s so great. You’ll be a great mom someday, just you wait.”
What does she think she’s saying to me? thought Megan. Megan wanted to stand up and hysterectomize herself with the letter opener while screaming and then throw her uterus at the wall above Jillian’s desk just to show Jillian how wrong she was about that.
“Yeah, I don’t think I ever want children,” said Megan.
“Awww,” said Jillian.
Do you pity me? thought
