Fuck… Would they do that?
“Did you come here to tease me?”
“No,” he denies. “I just wanted you to know that.”
“Well, it’s a little late now.”
“Is it? As I recall, we all live together. Your bedroom is next to mine. I could accidentally stumble in at any time.”
“What makes you think you’d be wanted?” I quip back.
A low chuckle rumbles from him. “Am I?”
To my relief, Doctor Fawn’s arrival prevents me from having to form an answer. The grey-haired clinician bustles into the room with a smile that I’m convinced required its own lesson during medical school.
“Ember. How are you?”
“Good.” I source a smile then plaster it on.
“Thanks for coming in today. These monthly checkups are vital as you come to grips with your new diagnosis and so we can monitor your medication regimen.”
Pulling up his own chair, he takes a seat then begins to leaf through some paperwork. The wriggly black lines that indicate the results of my EEG mean nothing to me but seem to be of great interest to him.
“Tell me how your symptoms have been since we last spoke. Any episodes?”
“Not since the last seizure,” I answer tightly. “Just some headaches and fatigue.”
“I see. Any dizziness?”
“A little.”
Nodding, he writes that down. “How is the shaking? Any involuntary movements?”
My fingers automatically curl, hiding the perpetual tremble that follows me. I can feel Hyland’s attention on me like a laser beam.
“It comes and goes.”
“That’s to be expected. I know we discussed your career last time we spoke, and I assured you that you can continue to work. But you need to listen to your body when it asks for rest.”
“I’m resting.”
There’s a deliberate throat clear from Hyland.
“I’m attempting to,” I amend.
“Over-exerting yourself is a surefire way to trigger another episode, Ember. Ignoring warning signs won’t help. Seizures are a part of your life now, but with the right self-care, we can reduce them.”
I nod at his stern tone.
“What about the medication we prescribed?”
“I’m taking it every day.”
“Any side effects?” He arches a grey brow.
“Not that I’ve noticed.”
He hums a pleased response, jotting some more notes on his paperwork. I’m acutely aware of Hyland craning his neck in an attempt to interpret the doctor’s handwriting from afar.
