“Hello. I’m here.”
“Honey, she’s here. Ooh, subs from Jersey Mikes!”
“Yeah, at the last minute my plans to cook went south.”
Salad packaging opened, subs unwrapped — minutes of silence a sign of a well-made choice.
***
“Mmm, good choice.”
“Thanks. Hey. Did I tell you? Seven vials. Seven vials to find out what all I’m allergic to.”
“Fourteen.”
“Fourteen what?”
“My last lab draw. Fourteen vials.”
“Oh.” His sandwich looked better than mine, at least juicier. Always picking turkey is getting old.
“Could I have a little slice? Yeah, there you go. Thanks.”
***
Almost full. Saved room for dessert.
***
Where’d she go?”
“Getting the mail.”
***
“There you are. Sit down. Did I show you what the cat did? Some do selfies. I document injuries.
“Yep. Saw the bruise and the swelling.”
“Um…oh…what’s that? You two got Guiac tests in the mail?” Solicitous mail for finding blood in stool — I have to turn sixty-five before I can have a free Guiac test…
“They’re always coming up with ways to get us to go to the doctors more often.” She gave her classic eye roll.
“Give me the mail then. My diarrhea issue is not resolved. Hey. New Subject — how was the MRI?”
“Amazing having an open MRI! Space on each side. Still louder than hell, but you don’t feel like you’re shoved in a tube.”
The one for my back wasn’t long ago. Yes, loud. Ear plugs helped little.
“When is your results appointment?”
“Two weeks”
“I want to go.”
“No, it’s fine. You don’t need to go.”
I pulled my phone from my purse and set a reminder.
Some things don’t wait for Thursday.
