Read Online Positively Mine by Christine Duval - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Christine Duval
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don’t have insurance, but I find it difficult to believe a Colman student doesn’t have insurance.”
“Well, it’s my father’s insurance, and I don’t want to use it.”
“Because you haven’t told him you’re pregnant?”
“Yes.”
“Eventually you’re going to tell him, though, aren’t you?”
I don’t answer.
“Laurel, if you’re having a baby, he’s going to find out.”
“I know. I’m just not ready yet. I’d like to continue to pay out of pocket.”
“Well, I’d hate to see you going through your entire savings account, and I don’t want you to avoid coming in, so until you find a way to talk to him, I will waive my fee.”
I shift in my chair. “You will?”
“I won’t charge you as long as you promise me you’ll keep your appointments. I see too many young women who skip prenatal care, and I don’t want that from you.”
“I’ll keep my appointments. I promise.”
“This leads to my last question. The baby’s father.”
I let out a deep breath.
“Do you mind telling me about the circumstances surrounding the pregnancy?”
“What do you want to know?”
“Was he, is he a boyfriend?”
“He was a friend but not my boyfriend. We…got together…right before I was leaving for school. We haven’t spoken since I’ve been here.”
“Are you planning to tell him?”
“I haven’t decided.”
“You know, many of my teenage patients rely on their mothers quite a bit. Maybe you could start by talking with her first.”
I bite my lip. “My mother died in a car accident eight years ago.”
Dr. Adler’s eyes lock on me like magnets. I can tell there is something registering in his head, but I’m not sure what.
After an uncomfortably long silence, he asks, “Was your mother Carolyn Ramsey?”
“Ramsey until she married my dad. Did you know her?”
“We were…friends. We were both from Dresden. Population 307 per the last census. And we both managed to get into Colman, which, considering the high school we went to was a big accomplishment. I was sorry to read of her death in the alumni paper. You look like her.”
Of all the doctors I could choose, I had to pick one that knew my mother?
“I’m sure she’d be real proud of me right now.” I cross my arms.
“Your mother was a practical woman. I’m sure she would have understood. She was always good at seeing the bigger picture.”
“It sounds like you knew her pretty well.”
“I did.” He doesn’t elaborate. “I think what would make her proud is how you deal with this going forward.” He closes my chart, and the meeting is adjourned. “I need to see you back here in one month. Don’t forget to contact Alison.”
Chapter Fifteen
I get back to school in time for Swedish Massage – the strangest class I have ever taken in my life. Madame Beurnier is both a French language professor and certified to teach massage. It was her idea to add this course to Colman’s phys. ed. requirement, and she takes her job a bit too seriously.
The first few weeks of the class we were more observers than participants, but now we have to take turns practicing the basic techniques on each other. Liz and I quickly declared each other partners so we wouldn’t be paired up with some sweaty football player who just came from practice, or worse.
Today, I am the masseuse, and Liz is lying head down on a massage table with her face in a contraption that resembles a donut. Although it’s customary to be naked in Swedish massage, Colman wouldn’t go for it, much to Madame’s disappointment. So instead, we opt for light, loose-fitting clothing – per the course catalog – although some of the guys take their shirts off anyway.
The two techniques Madame has us practicing today are effleurage and petrissage. Effleurage are continual gentle gliding strokes on either side of the spine. Petrissage is when you knead and lift tissue like balls of dough. I alternate my hands, running them up and down Liz’s back
“Well, it’s my father’s insurance, and I don’t want to use it.”
“Because you haven’t told him you’re pregnant?”
“Yes.”
“Eventually you’re going to tell him, though, aren’t you?”
I don’t answer.
“Laurel, if you’re having a baby, he’s going to find out.”
“I know. I’m just not ready yet. I’d like to continue to pay out of pocket.”
“Well, I’d hate to see you going through your entire savings account, and I don’t want you to avoid coming in, so until you find a way to talk to him, I will waive my fee.”
I shift in my chair. “You will?”
“I won’t charge you as long as you promise me you’ll keep your appointments. I see too many young women who skip prenatal care, and I don’t want that from you.”
“I’ll keep my appointments. I promise.”
“This leads to my last question. The baby’s father.”
I let out a deep breath.
“Do you mind telling me about the circumstances surrounding the pregnancy?”
“What do you want to know?”
“Was he, is he a boyfriend?”
“He was a friend but not my boyfriend. We…got together…right before I was leaving for school. We haven’t spoken since I’ve been here.”
“Are you planning to tell him?”
“I haven’t decided.”
“You know, many of my teenage patients rely on their mothers quite a bit. Maybe you could start by talking with her first.”
I bite my lip. “My mother died in a car accident eight years ago.”
Dr. Adler’s eyes lock on me like magnets. I can tell there is something registering in his head, but I’m not sure what.
After an uncomfortably long silence, he asks, “Was your mother Carolyn Ramsey?”
“Ramsey until she married my dad. Did you know her?”
“We were…friends. We were both from Dresden. Population 307 per the last census. And we both managed to get into Colman, which, considering the high school we went to was a big accomplishment. I was sorry to read of her death in the alumni paper. You look like her.”
Of all the doctors I could choose, I had to pick one that knew my mother?
“I’m sure she’d be real proud of me right now.” I cross my arms.
“Your mother was a practical woman. I’m sure she would have understood. She was always good at seeing the bigger picture.”
“It sounds like you knew her pretty well.”
“I did.” He doesn’t elaborate. “I think what would make her proud is how you deal with this going forward.” He closes my chart, and the meeting is adjourned. “I need to see you back here in one month. Don’t forget to contact Alison.”
Chapter Fifteen
I get back to school in time for Swedish Massage – the strangest class I have ever taken in my life. Madame Beurnier is both a French language professor and certified to teach massage. It was her idea to add this course to Colman’s phys. ed. requirement, and she takes her job a bit too seriously.
The first few weeks of the class we were more observers than participants, but now we have to take turns practicing the basic techniques on each other. Liz and I quickly declared each other partners so we wouldn’t be paired up with some sweaty football player who just came from practice, or worse.
Today, I am the masseuse, and Liz is lying head down on a massage table with her face in a contraption that resembles a donut. Although it’s customary to be naked in Swedish massage, Colman wouldn’t go for it, much to Madame’s disappointment. So instead, we opt for light, loose-fitting clothing – per the course catalog – although some of the guys take their shirts off anyway.
The two techniques Madame has us practicing today are effleurage and petrissage. Effleurage are continual gentle gliding strokes on either side of the spine. Petrissage is when you knead and lift tissue like balls of dough. I alternate my hands, running them up and down Liz’s back
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