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 out of here."
"Ms. Powell, it's not quite that simple. We'll get you in and out of X-ray as quickly as possible. I'll try to schedule the G.I. for first thing in the morning. Once we get you admitted—"