to see you regarding the heavy bleeding that you’re experiencing. I’d like to do a complete exam and any tests that I think are necessary.”
“I appreciate that, and I’ll be sure to make an appointment sometime next week.”
“You take care of yourself.”
“Thanks again, Doctor.”
I felt so stupid. I mean what did all of this really say about me as a person? Knowing that I had a problem, knowing that I had prescribed medication yet I didn’t even have the intelligence to take it? I didn’t like the way Charisse sometimes talked down to me, but she’d been right when she’d said that my recent symptoms were all my fault. And then there was this whole idea of not seeing a doctor and pretending that nothing was wrong with me. Pretending that changing sanitary products every hour on the hour was somehow completely normal.
Now I wondered how I’d been able to breeze through Yale Law School as if it were nothing but didn’t seem to have the sense enough to seek medical attention. My grandmother, God rest her soul, had always talked about people who had book sense but no common sense, and I was ashamed to say that maybe I had fallen into that category. Because the truth was I knew better. I knew that the earlier you caught cancer, the better your chances were of surviving it. I didn’t know if I had cancer or not, but who was I to take a chance on it? Who was I to decide that my bleeding just wasn’t that serious?
But when it was all said and done, I knew that I wasn’t stupid and that I certainly had my share of common sense. I knew that my hesitation toward seeing a doctor had everything to do with fear. I was scared to death that I really did have a terminal illness. Sure, I knew it might simply be endometriosis or some other common disease, but my pessimistic thoughts were forcing me to think otherwise. I was known to be a true optimist when it came to family, my career, and life in general, but when it came to sickness, I’d always thought the worst. Even as a small girl I’d always assumed that a slight headache definitely meant I had a brain tumor. I assumed that any ache or pain was a sign that I needed emergency surgery.
But as I grew older, gained a lot more wisdom, and experienced life specifically on life’s terms, those particular thoughts began to cease. I no longer worried about what horrible thing could or might happen to me. I never worried about anything like that until now. But starting today, I was going to do whatever I had to do in order to find out what was ailing me. I would do whatever it took to get well.
Chapter 6
W HITNEY
W HITNEY?” Charisse said when I answered the phone.
“Did you know that Taylor was having all these bleeding problems?”
“No,” I lied, and didn’t even flinch because I never told any of Taylor’s business to anyone. Not even Charisse. We were all best friends, supposedly, but the fact that Charisse regularly judged both of us whenever she had the opportunity was reason enough for me not to tell her anything. Plus, I enjoyed knowing something that she didn’t. I wasn’t sure why, but it probably had something to do with her constantly acting like she knew everything.
“Well, she called me today, saying that she’d been having dizzy spells and that she’d been bleeding real heavy for a long time.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, and it’s up to you and me to make sure that she goes to see her doctor. And can you believe she hasn’t been taking her iron medication? I mean, that’s just crazy.”
“Well, I wouldn’t say it’s crazy, because there have been many times that I’ve stopped taking medicine way before my doctor told me to.”
“Yeah, but you weren’t taking any medicine that you’ll probably need for the rest of your life. Taylor knows that she’s anemic and that she can’t do without it, but for some reason it’s no big deal to her.”
We were barely two minutes into the conversation and Charisse was already getting