Betrayed

ENT

I stared down at my brown and orange stained fingers in fascination while I was waiting to see the specialist. Due to the nature of my job, my hands were dry and cracked and had a tendency to absorb color from the food I handled. It was incredibly difficult to get it out. Some helpful people had advised me that if I simply took the time to moisturize my hands, I wouldn't have this problem. As if I had time for that! My hands were too busy with food prep, and dishwashing to take the time to let the lotion soak into my dry cracked hands. My nails were kept short, I didn't wear rings and I washed my hands about a hundred times per day, they were definitely not sexy. My right hand had a tough raised callus just under my index finger from the constant contact with the metal of my knife while both arms had various burn marks from moments of inattention while cooking. Some of my knuckles had scars from the times the cheese slipped against the grater catching the edge of my knuckle onto the sharp blade. I was lucky to have all my fingers; I was a little too careless in the kitchen sometimes.

"Miss Harper Saunders" a manly voice called out. I looked up at the man who had summoned me, a warm crooked smile crossed his face as he invited me into the office. I walked over to him slowly and sat in the exam chair. "My name is Dr. Helm, what can I do for you today Miss Saunders?" he asked as he gave me his full attention. I swallowed hard, feeling nervous.

"I have this lump here," I said pointing at my neck. The doctor's eyes narrowed as she lifted my chin and touched the lump gently.

"Hmmm, so you do," he said, his eyebrows furrowed. "When did you notice it first?" he asked, turning away from me and walking towards a cupboard against the wall.

"About 2 years ago, I was hoping it would go away on its own, but after a year I consulted my family doctor about it, and well, I've been waiting a year to see you" I finished.

"Yes, the wait times are a little long I'm afraid, there aren't very many of us in this field" he smiled apologetically. He was holding a long hosed instrument and pushed my head back against the chair's headrest. "Does it interfere with your breathing or swallowing?" he asked squeezed a thick clear liquid onto the end of the tube.

"No"

"Do you feel a pressure in your throat?"

"No"

"That's good then. So what I'm going to do is put this scope in your nostril and have a look in your throat ok? To make sure it isn't obstructing anything" he explained. I nodded, not seeing that I had much choice in the matter. "Here we go, you'll feel a bit of pressure" he announced as he pushed the hard black tube into my nose, "and now your eyes will water," he continued as the burning sensation caused my eyes to water. "You should be feeling a little burning sensation" he confirmed "and we're there!" he paused for a moment examining my throat through his scope. I held my breath and kept my eyes squeezed shut through the whole ordeal, the sensation of a scope up the nose was quite unpleasant. The doctor gently pulled out the scope and handed me a tissue to wipe my runny nose. "Well the good news is that it's not obstructing your airway, but I'm going to request an ultrasound and a biopsy to further investigate this lump. When I get the results I will get you to come back to my office or I will call you. I'm sure it's nothing" he reassured me with a smile. I left my work phone number with the secretary as I made my way out of the office.

My boss, Gabriel Mason, was waiting for me in the parking lot. I opened the door to his lifted truck and reached for the handle to help prop myself up. He watched as I pulled myself into the seat ungracefully but said nothing.

"Sorry it took so long," I said, hating that I even had to ask for a ride there.

He shrugged indifferently. "I went by the store and got all the things you wrote on the list, did you need to get anything else?" he asked in a slow deep voice.