Medical Office Equipment
(But that wasn’t what made me dizzy.)
He brought out tools and began working on snipping the nail, and trimming the cuticle.
(That’s not what made me have an episode.)
The doctor began explaining that we have two options.
(Oh God...not this. It’s happening....Limits. Feeling restrictions. An ultimatum.)
“The problem is the nail is hanging on by just a bit of skin....”
“Son, I’m going to the restroom.” He nodded without looking up from his mangled toe.
He nodded and kept working. I made it down the hall, closed the single room bathroom door and locked it. I focused on the silver shine of the door knob. I slid to the floor. I heard pounding in my ears. I looked at the trash bin full of discarded paper towels and thought about spitting up. I gagged but didn’t produce. The sweat was slipping off my nose. I pressed my cheek against the linoleum and listened to clacking heels pass by in the hall. I studied the thin line of light underneath the door. Dust collected around the edge of the frame and the circulating air made the webs quiver. I hated myself for being here when my son was in the exam room. I wanted to cry but humiliation made me say ugly things to myself instead.
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