Holding the Dream Page 0,50

This is where the doctors are." He lifted her to her feet, surprised when she went along like an obedient puppy. He passed her off to a nurse, then settled down to wait.

Kate told herself the more she cooperated, the quicker they would let her go. And they had to let her go. She wasn't a child now who had no choice. She stepped into the narrow examining area, shuddering once at the sound of the curtain being drawn closed behind her.

"Let's see what we've got here."

The doctor on duty was young and pretty. A round face, narrow eyes behind wire-framed glasses, dark hair scooped back at the side with simple bobby pins;

It had been a man before, Kate remembered. He'd been young, too, but his eyes had been exhausted and old. Mechanically, Kate answered the standard questions. No, she didn't have any allergies, she'd had no surgery, she was taking no medication.

"Why don't you lie back, Ms. Powell? I'm Dr. Hudd. I'm going to check you out. Are you having pain now?"

"No, not really."

The doctor lifted an eyebrow. "No or not really?"

Kate closed her eyes and struggled to steep herself in the here and now. "Some."

"Tell me when it increases."

Soft hands, Kate thought as they began to probe her. Doctors always seemed to have soft hands. Then she hissed as the doctor applied pressure under her breastbone.

"That's the spot, huh? How often does this happen?"

"It happens."

"Do you find the discomfort occurs after a meal, say, an hour or so after a meal?"

"Sometimes." She sighed. "Yes."

"And when you drink alcohol?"

"Yes."

"Is there any vomiting?"

"No." Kate swiped a hand over her clammy face. "No."

"Dizziness?"

"No. Well, not really."

Dr. Hudd's unpainted mouth pursed as she pressed her fingers to Kate's wrist. "Your pulse is a little fast."

"I don't want to be here," Kate said flatly. "I hate hospitals."

"Yeah, I know the feeling." The doctor continued as she made notations on a chart, "Describe the pain for me."

Kate stared up at the ceiling, pretended she was talking aloud to herself. "It's a burning in the torso, or an aching." She wouldn't stay here, she reminded herself calmly. On this table, behind these curtains. "More like sharp hunger pains in my stomach. They can get pretty intense."

"I bet. How have you been dealing with it?"

"My heartburn," Kate said dully. "Mylanta."

The doctor chuckled, patted Kate's hand. "Are you under a lot of stress, Ms. Powell?"

My father was a thief, I've lost my job, and the cops could be knocking on my door any minute. There's nothing I can do about it, nothing, that won't make it worse.

"Who isn't?" She tried not to jerk when the doctor lifted her eyelid and shined a light to check her pupils.

"How long have you been having these symptoms?"

"Somewhere around forever. I don't know. They've gotten worse in the last couple of months."

"Sleeping well?"

"No."

"Taking anything for that?"

"No."

"How about headaches?"

"No, thanks. I have plenty of them. Nuprin," she said, anticipating the question. "Excedrin. I switch off."

"Mm-hmm. When was your last physical?" When Kate didn't answer, me doctor eased back, pursed her lips again. "That long ago, huh? Who's your regular doctor?"

"I go see Minelli once a year for a pap. I don't get sick."

"You're doing a good imitation of it now. I'll follow that up with my imitation of an exam. Let's check your blood pressure."

Kate submitted to it. She was calmer now, certain that the ordeal was almost over. She imagined the doctor would dash off a prescription and be done with it.

"Blood pressure's a little high, heart's strong. You're underweight, Ms. Powell. Dieting?"

"No. I never diet."

"Lucky you," Hudd said, with a considering look in her eye. It was a look Kate recognized, one that made her sigh.

"I don't have an eating disorder, doctor. I'm not bulimic, not anorexic. No binging, no purging, no pills. I've always been thin."

"So you haven't lost any weight lately?"

"A few pounds, maybe," Kate admitted. "My appetite's been kind of sporadic. Look, I've had some problems at work and it's stressed me out. That's all. Believe me, if I had a choice, I'd rather have curves than angles."

"Well, when we solve this problem, you should put them back on. After we run a few tests - "

Kate's hand shot out, curled around the doctor's wrist. "Tests? What kind of tests?"

"Nothing that involves torture chambers, I promise. We need some X-rays, a barium certainly. And I recommend an upper G.I. These are to pinpoint and to eliminate."

"I don't want any tests. Give me a pill and let me