Between Sisters

Finally, someone knocked, then the door opened.

In walked a teenage boy in a white coat. “I’m Dr. Lannigan. What seems to be the problem?”

Meghann groaned.

Claire sat up. “Hello, doctor. I really don’t need to be here, I’m sure. I have a headache and my sister thinks a migraine is emergency-room-worthy. After a long flight, I had some kind of panic attack. ”

“Where she forgot how to get home,” Meghann added.

The doctor didn’t look at Meghann. He didn’t look at Claire, either. Instead, he studied the chart in his hands. Then he asked her to perform a few functions—lift one arm, then the other, turn her head, blink—and answer some easy questions—what year it is, who the president is. That sort of thing. When he finished, he asked, “Do you often get headaches?”

“Yes, when I get stressed-out. More lately, though,” she had to admit.

“Have you made any big changes in your life recently?”

Claire laughed. “Plenty. I just got married for the first time. My husband is going to be gone for a month. He’s in Nashville, making a record. ”

“Ah. ” He smiled. “Well, Mrs. Austin, your blood work is all normal, as are your pulse and your blood pressure, and your temperature. I’m sure this is all stress. I could run some expensive tests, but I don’t think it’s necessary. I’ll write you a prescription for a migraine medication. When you feel one coming on, take two tablets with plenty of water. ” He smiled. “If the headaches persist, however, I’d recommend that you see a neurologist. ”

Claire nodded, relieved. “Thank you, doctor. ”

“Oh, no. So no. ” Meghann pulled away from the wall and moved toward the doctor. “That’s not good enough. ”

He blinked at her, stepping back as she invaded his personal space.

“I watch ER. She needs a CAT scan, at the very least. Or an MRI or an EKG. Some damn initial test. At the very least, she’ll take that neurology consult now. ”

He frowned. “Those are costly tests. We can hardly run a CAT scan on every patient who complains of a headache, but if you’d like, I’ll recommend a neurologist. You can make an appointment to see him. ”

“How long have you been a doctor?”

“I’m in my first year of residency. ”

“Would you like to do a second year?”

“Of course. I don’t see—”

“Get your supervisor in here. Now. We didn’t spend three hours here so that an almost-doctor could tell us that Claire is under stress. I’m under stress; you’re under stress. We manage to remember our way home. Get a real doctor in here. A neurologist. We are not making an appointment. We’ll see a specialist now. ”

“I’ll go get a consult. ” He clutched his clipboard and hurried out.

Claire sighed. “You’re being you again. It is stress. ”

“I hope it is, too, but I’m not taking the prom king’s word for it. ”

A few moments later, the nurse was back. This time her smile looked forced. “Dr. Kensington has reviewed your material for Dr. Lannigan. She’d like you to have a CAT scan. ”

“She. Thank God,” Meghann said.

The nurse nodded. “You can come with me,” she said to Claire.

Claire looked to Meghann, who smiled and took her arm. “Think of us as conjoined. ”

The nurse walked out in front of them.

Claire clung to Meghann’s hand. The walk seemed to last forever, down one corridor and another, up the elevator and down another hallway, until they arrived at the Center for Nuclear Medicine.

Nuclear. Claire felt Meghann’s grip tighten.