Chapter 16


Dr. Williams asked whether there may be reason to test for concussion, “did you hit your head during the collision?”

“i dont really know.”

“do you have pain in your head?” he began applying small amounts of pressure all over my nog.

“no,” i answered.

strange, i didnt even have a migraine. in fact, this was one of any number of highly stressful situations when my gnawing condition left me alone.

“i think you might want to test for concussion…” Brian started.

“and here?” he lightly strangled my neck with his soft hands and cut off any air to Brians question.


“what i was saying was, she did show signs of concussion because when the medics asked, she gave her….”


“old phone number, from when she was a kid,” Brian managed to finish.

“and she didnt feel pain!” he added, sure of at least this one absurdity.

“no. and hes right,” i said, keeping still.

“can that be shock? concussion?” i asked the doc.

but he only pushed on my sternum and said, “now?”

the doctor felt each shoulder, my back, ribs.

“no. no. no.”

then he got to the hips…i winced when he pulled back the gown.

“i havent touched you yet.”

“it hurts.”

“and now?” he placed pressure on the hip.


“now im going to move your leg,” he told me.

i frowned. id held my knee in a slightly bent fashion all night. i could not straighten it, nor bend it more than it bent.

the doctor unbent my knee.

“AAAAHHHH!” i really screamed it.

he took the leg and moved it to the left, allowing me to resume the comforting slight bend. it did not hurt. he did the same, moving it while still slightly bent, to the right, this time. it did not hurt. he SQUEEZED the knee! it really didnt hurt. he pushed his thumb into my purple bruise and i positively howled. tears. black fear with that familiar ring of death.

“NOW!” i startled the curtains.

with my gown still up and my knee safely bent, me wincing, the doctor explained he did not think i needed x-rays. he told me i had bad bruises, what are known as contusions.

i kept good eye contact with the doctor. the whole time he spoke, his eyes would go to my exposed pink panties and back to my eyes. his eyes made that trek a half dozen times.

by his expression it was clear he got off the more knowing I saw him get off by looking.

what sort of letch was he???

i def felt violated. but i had to stay on track; take in all that he was telling me. meanwhile, i was quite glad something had prompted me to take the time to trim my puss, some days back. id have felt even more exposed and sickened had the older doctor sighted the promise of a seventies bush sticking out from my panties. something from his own salad days, surely.

“could bruises really hurt this much?” i asked him.

“yes, for some” he smiled, smugly.

“cant we have x-rays, just to be sure?”

“you can have x-rays if you want x-rays,” he frowned.

“nothing is broken, in my opinion,” he stood and looked as if there were no seconds to spare. a finger blindly tapped his outer thigh.

my mind kind of went into a racing, trap-panic. on the one hand, i figured i had a very high tolerance for pain, being a chronic pain sufferer, and could have been inadvertently downplaying it to myself. i mean, ive kissed the blackened feet of the dregs of hell on good days—shit could be much worse than i felt.

but on the other hand, im also prone to anxiety and neuroses—was i blowing this out of proportion? i mean in the other direction? what an ass I would feel, if in fact i merely had bruises but demanded the x-rays. like a diva megalomaniac bitch.

but, then, also, i told myself not to be so proud. who cares if its only bruises? weve sat for several hours and may as well see for ourselves just what was not broken.

no, fuck this, my little voice of reason kicked in, theres no confusion. i was hit by a fucking speeding mini-van, the voice decided. my knee is twice its normal size, i cannot walk and the whole leg hurts like bloody hell!

“okay,” i started, “then lets have them, if only as a precaution,” i said a little sheepishly, maybe a little too sweetly, to compensate for the sudden inner indignation with which i currently seethed.

“i mean if its allowed,” i went on, looking down like a dogs tail, and in the back of my mind i wondered again, this time more quietly, whether i really was being a big baby.

“okay, you can have them,” Dr. Williams tossed his gloves in the can and was gone before i could ask for that ice.

He positively stalked out of the exam room.


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