“Here we are. ” The nurse paused outside yet another closed door. She turned to Meghann. “There’s a chair right there. You can’t come in, but I’ll take good care of her, okay?”
Meghann hesitated, then slowly nodded. “I’ll be here, Claire. ”
Claire followed the nurse through the door, then down another short hallway and into a room that was dominated by a huge machine that looked like a white doughnut. Claire let herself be positioned on the narrow bed that intersected the doughnut hole.
There, she waited. And waited. Periodically, the nurse came back, muttered something about the doctor, and disappeared again.
Claire started to get cold. The fear she’d worked so hard to keep at bay crept back. It was impossible not to fear the worst here.
Finally, the door opened and a man in a white coat walked in. “Sorry to keep you waiting. Something came up. I’m Dr. Cole, your radiologist. You just lie perfectly still and we’ll have you out of here in no time. ”
Claire forced herself to smile. She refused to think about the fact that everyone else wore lead aprons in the room, while she lay with only the thinnest sheet of cotton to protect her.
“You’re done. Fine job,” he said when it was finally over.
Claire was so thankful she almost forgot the headache that had steadily increased as she lay in the machine.
In the hallway, Meghann looked angry. “What happened? They said it would take an hour. ”
“And it did, once they corraled a doctor. ”
“Shitheads. ”
Claire laughed. Already she felt better with that behind her. “They certainly teach you lawyers to be precise with your language. ”
“You don’t want to hear precisely what I think of this place. ”
They followed the nurse to another exam room.
“Should I get dressed?” Claire asked.
“Not yet. The doctor will be here soon. ”
“I’ll bet,” Meghann said under her breath.
Thirty minutes later, the nurse was back. “The doctor has ordered another test. An MRI. Follow me. ”
“What’s an MRI?” Claire asked, feeling anxious again.
“Magnetic resonance imaging. It’s a clearer picture of what’s going on. Very standard. ”
Another hallway, another long walk toward a closed door. Again, Meg waited outside.
This time, Claire had to remove her wedding ring, her earrings, her necklace, and even her barrette. The technician asked her if she had any steel surgical staples or a pacemaker. When she said no and asked why, he said, “Well, we’d hate to see ’em fly outta you when this thing starts up. ”
“That’s a lovely image,” Claire muttered. “I hope my fillings are safe. ”
The tech laughed as he helped her into the coffinlike machine. She found it difficult to breathe evenly. The bed was cold and hard; it curved up uncomfortably and pinched her upper back. The technician strapped her in. “You need to lie perfectly still. ”
Claire closed her eyes. The room was cold and she was freezing, but she lay still.
When the machine started it sounded like a jackhammer on a city street.
Quiet, Claire. Still. Perfectly still. She closed her eyes and barely breathed. She didn’t realize she was crying until she felt the moisture drip down her temple.
The one-hour test lasted for two. Halfway through, they stopped and set up an IV. The needle pinched her arm; dye bled through her system, feeling ice-cold. She swore she could feel it pump into her brain. Finally, she was let go. She and Meghann returned to an examination room in the Nuclear Medicine Wing, where Claire’s clothes were hanging. Then they went to another waiting room.
“Of course,” Meg grumbled.