Grace in Strange Disguise

Chapter 5

5

Esther opened the door of the clinic and released a torrent of sound. Babies, toddlers and distracted parents crammed the room to bursting point. Every seat was filled and several people leaned against the walls. A pungent smell of lemon antiseptic failed to override less pleasant odours.

Esther hesitated in the doorway. Perhaps she should give up and return to her car. But her hand throbbed and the pain wasn’t improving fast enough on its own.

She concentrated on not treading on toys, nor a tiny hand, or foot. The last thing she needed was an irate parent, a screaming baby, or a sprained ankle. The receptionist juggled the phone and attempted to organise a towering pile of files. Once the phone was hung up she tucked her hair behind her ear and said in an undertone, “Sorry about all this, normally we run an orderly operation but one of the doctors had to go home early—”

“Should I reschedule my appointment?” Esther asked.

“No. Dr Arnold will see you, if you’re prepared to wait a little longer. He’s running behind time because he’s covering both sets of appointments.”

Esther squeezed into a seat offered by an older man, opened a well-thumbed magazine and attempted to block out the hubbub. Fat chance.

The clinic emptied of mothers and babies, and filled with adults.

“Esther, the doctor will see you now.” Esther checked her watch—ninety minutes. What would Sue say if the physio clinic kept patients waiting so long?

Esther placed her magazine in the rack and gathered up her bag and umbrella. As she entered the doctor’s room he was sitting, head down, scribbling. He looked up over his bifocals.

“Ahh, Esther. Haven’t seen you for several years. How are your parents? Still fighting fit? A good ad for their church…” Esther gave a ghost of a smile. He’d been making the same joke for as long as she could remember.

“Now, what seems to be the problem?”

“Well…”

The intercom buzzed. “Dr Claude ringing back on line one.”

Dr Arnold reached for the phone. “Sorry, have to take this one.” Was she ever going to get to her dress fitting? Esther sat motionless, endeavouring not to listen to the one-sided call. Five minutes later, he ended the call.

“Sorry for the interruption. I don’t usually take calls during appointments but I’ve been playing telephone tag with that doctor all day.” He glanced at her open file again. “Now, where were we?”

Esther held up her swollen left hand.

“Oh, that doesn’t look comfortable. What happened?”

“I went hiking last weekend, and put my hand onto a wasp nest.”

Dr Arnold stood up and gestured towards the treatment table. “Sit there and let me look.” His hand felt cool against the heat of her hand. “Nothing out of the ordinary. I’ll give you the name of some antihistamine tablets and a cream.” He wrote on the notepad in front of him and ripped off the sheet of paper. “If this isn’t improving in three days, please make another appointment. If that’s all—”

“I’ve also had some twinges in my left armpit.” The intercom buzzed yet again. Esther stifled a sigh. More waiting. There were two more calls before Dr Arnold could ask more questions.

“How long have you been getting this pain?”

“The first time I noticed it I was trying on my wedding dress—that would make it more than a month ago. Since then, I’ve had occasional twinges when I raise my arms above my head or stretch out to the side.”

Dr Arnold looked towards the clock behind her head. “Sounds like you might have strained a muscle or something. I suggest you put a hot pack on it each evening. If it’s still bothering you in a month, come back.”

He’d forgotten he was talking to a physiotherapist, and was trying to palm her off and get on with the next person. Now she’d finally gained his attention, she wasn’t ready to leave.

“I feel a little silly, but I wondered if it might be something more serious.”

“Now let’s see, how old are you?” He looked back at the front page of the file, pursed his lips and said, “Twenty-seven, nearly twenty-eight. It’s unlikely to be anything serious at your age—”

Buzz-zz. If that intercom buzzed again, Esther was ready to drop-kick it across the carpark. The call finished, but before Dr Arnold could open his mouth, the intercom buzzed yet again. And again.

Enough was enough. Esther stood up, turned her back on Dr Arnold, and gathered her bag. She didn’t want him to see her annoyance. She gave a sketchy wave and left. What a waste of time.