One (Sarah Crossan)

The Check Up

Mom drives us all the way to the specialist children’s hospital

in Rhode Island

for our quarterly check-up,

to ensure our organs aren’t making plans to pack it in.

And today,

like every other time before,

Dr Derrick parades his

wide-eyed

medical students

and asks if we mind them

watching the exam.

We mind.

Of course we mind.

But Dr Derrick’s stethoscope and white coat

do not permit disagreement

so we shrug

and allow ourselves to be

ogled

by a dozen trainee doctors

with tight mouths

and narrow eyes

who

tilt forward,

ever so slightly

on their toes,

as we lift our shirts.

By the end we are blushing

and only want to

leave.

‘They’re all good?’ Mom asks hopefully

when we’re back in Dr Derrick’s office.

He taps the top of his

desk.

‘Everything clear

as far as I can see,’

he says.

‘But as always,

they have to take it easy,

especially now they’ll

be at school.

Right?’

He points a playful warning finger at us.

‘Right,’ we say,

not planning to

change a thing

about how we live.