I was dismissed.
As if I’d been told that the shoes I wanted weren’t available in my size and not that I was pregnant with triplets.
Oh and by the way, the Doctor couldn’t see me right now.
Did I mind coming back in one and a half hours.
“No. No I don’t mind” is what I said. But that’s not what I was thinking…
I shook my head in disbelief and laughed. One of those closed mouth laughs where you bite your lips closed from the inside and the only sound is air being pushed out through your nostrils.
The hall was cold. Or maybe it wasn’t the hall. Maybe I was hungry. Now that I was eating for four, it seemed logical.
The journey back was different than the way down.
It seemed to go on forever. And what happened to all the people?
I peeked my head in every doorway. On both sides. Not a soul.
I was all alone. Literally and figuratively.
I finally made it to the end of the tunnel. There was no light. Just the Receptionist.
I felt like an animal that hadn’t eaten in weeks. I had one last chance to pounce.
I didn’t know her name. It didn’t matter. I had to talk to her.
I had no choice.
Ever been at the End of a Dark Tunnel?
In May 2013, I wrote this post about what it was like finding out I was pregnant with triplets.
I was then prompted to write a post about what I smelt after hearing the news that I was pregnant with triplets. I couldn’t remember a smell but I could remember a feeling. A feeling of being cold. This is that post.