A D'yani Fanfic.
I was so out of it that I didn't even notice when the stoplight switched from yellow to red.
Struggling to act on my fight or flight, I have no choice but to run straight into the car in front of me.
Oh fuck.
Just one of those fucki...
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📍Manchester, Jamaica | Mandeville
Six Months Later | Friday, December 20th
11 AM ⏰
"Good Morning miss," the receptionist pushes the dark sliding window, revealing her face.
"What's the name and appointment time?"
I smile at her, stepping towards the counter, and placing my phone and keys on the cool granite surface.
"Camille Williamson," I say, " for eleven thirty."
There's a bit of silence between us as she taps at the keyboard underneath her perfectly manicured fingers, I take the time to scan the almost empty waiting room.
Pretty empty for a Friday...
She looks up at me, grabbing my attention once more.
Reaching under her desk, she retrieves a clipboard with a few pieces of documentation trapped under the metal clasp and slides it toward me.
"Fill these out, a nurse will be out to bring you back soon"
I nod, grabbing a blue pen from the holder, I balance my phone and keys in my free hand before returning to my seat.
I glance over the first sheet.
Phillips OBGYN Centre .
I fill in the basic info, name, date of birth, and that sort of thing, before completing the sections about my medical history and medication information.
My primary care physician recently referred me to this practice and said I needed to "take my reproductive health more seriously", whatever that means.
I was at the age where I had my body down to a science, I knew how she worked, and she knew me.
But with age, came new issues, and it was better to get ahead of these things rather than let them fester.
So I gave in, and here I am.
"Ms. Williamson?"
I look up, and my eyes make four with a young nurse, peeking out from the back rooms dressed in a monochromatic blue scrub set.
"Yes," I stand up, grabbing all my belongings, "yes, that's me"
I follow behind her as she leads me to an empty room.
She wasted no time, quickly and concisely instructing me to take my clothes off, where to put them, and how to sit on the examination table so she could take some preliminary tests and vitals.
"First time here?" she asks, securing the plastic cuff around my exposed upper arm.
"Here? Yes." I tell her, feeling the cuff rise with pressure as she presses on the inflation bulb.
