The bright and inviting waiting room had pale-green walls that smelled of disinfectant. On one side, opposite the chair-lined walls, a small counter awaited us.
“May I help you?” The receptionist appeared to be in her mid-twenties. She acted as if this were the most normal thing around. For me, it was the most daring thing I had ever done. I am sure that it was for Salisha too.
The receptionist chatted with us as if we had dropped by to get our teeth cleaned. My hands were sweating; my upper lip followed suit; and my stomach did unfamiliar maneuvers. At the same time, I became aware that my toes were bent in my tennis shoes as if to hold on to the floor (or a slippery slope). I think we filled out some paperwork. My mind was speeding and ricocheting like the little metal balls in a pinball machine.
“Which of you would like to see the doctor first?”