“It’s okay, Morgan,” the doctor said. “Chasm, I assure you everything I’m doing is clinical. Right now, I am feeling for lumps. Women need to check themselves at least once a week, though daily in the shower is better. Partners can check as well.”
He never looked down at what he was doing. When he finished the side he was on, he pulled the gown toward him and did the same on the other side.
“Early lump detection can mean all the difference,” he explained.
“Any pain in the breasts?” he asked as he covered her up again.
He looked her in the eye and was professional. I wished I could say that helped, but it didn’t.
“A little,” she said.
“As they grow, it can pull on the muscles inside the breast as well as the muscles along your collarbone that hold them up.”
He moved down her body and lifted the gown to reveal her stomach. He felt around, causing her to wince. My eyes snapped up, and he nodded.
“Mostly like ligament pain. But we’ll take a look.”
He pulled the sheet up so it bunched at her hips. He held his hand out with two fingers extended, while the nurse squirted what looked like lube on them. Then he rubbed it around with his thumb, coating those two fucking fingers before he stuck them inside her as he pressed down with his other hand.
“What exactly are you looking for?” I asked, my voice coarse with the rage I was trying desperately to hold back.
“Abnormalities. I’m checking the size and shape of her uterus to make sure it’s as it should be for how far along she is. I am also feeling for any growths that shouldn’t be there.”
When he was done, he removed the glove and replaced it with another one. He pulled the stool over and, just like Morgan said, sat down between her spread legs.
I looked at my wife; her eyes stared at the ceiling as a tear slipped from the corner of her eye. I focused all my attention on her as I wiped the tear away.
“Give me the word, and I’ll knock him out.”
She choked out a laugh, and I swore I heard the fucking doctor do the same, but I never took my eyes off her.
“Just hold my hand.”
The nurse slid another stool over to me and I sat down; her hand cradled in mine as my other hand cupped her head.
She winced and squeezed my hand.
“I’m sorry, Morgan, I know this part is the worst.”
“He’s a fucking man; what the fuck does he know?” I muttered.
Morgan turned her head and smiled at me. “Thank you.”
“What are you thanking me for?” I asked, running my fingers through her hair.
“For keeping your promise.”
“I haven’t exactly been quiet,” I said.
“No, but you haven’t hit the doctor, so I’ll take that as a win.”
I glanced at the end of the table. “The appointment’s not over. Better wait before you start thanking me.”
“Okay, everything looks good, Morgan.”
I fucking hated that he used her first name; like he had some kind of relationship with her.
“So we’re out of the woods?” she asked, and my heart broke with the fear I heard in her voice.