A to Z April Blogging Challenge
Q is for Queasy
Phoebe started feeling a little queasy while she was taking her morning shower. Her mind, automatically, went back to what she had eaten the night before. She had met her mom for dinner at ‘Mac’s Diner’. Phoebe had ordered her usual ribeye steak dinner with unsweetened tea. She ate at ‘Mac’s Diner’ several times a week and had never gotten sick. Phoebe didn’t think it was food poisoning.
“What if it was the beef?” thought Phoebe. “There had been so many recalls on beef lately. Should she call the diner to let them know they had some bad beef? No, she would wait and call her mom later, to see how she was feeling this morning.”
When Phoebe got out of the shower her queasiness had gone. She grabbed a glass of orange juice and a whole wheat muffin from the kitchen, headed to her office room, sat down and turned on her computer.
Phoebe was working on her third revision of her second novel. The deadline was looming and Phoebe had been working very hard the past two months to get it finished. She was close to done, but the stress she had been under, was still with her. Phoebe was always stressed. She was, by nature, a very anxious person. She knew it was not good for her, and she had tried several medications over the years, to no avail. Phoebe had decided to treat her anxiety by natural methods. Besides, she felt that she worked better under stress.
By lunchtime, Phoebe was ready to be outdoors. She shut down her computer, stood and stretched for a bit, then headed to the kitchen to make herself a tall glass of iced tea. She grabbed the phone and headed out to her patio. The view was gorgeous from her patio; herbs, flowers, vegetables, and vines scattered about her back yard. Beyond her back yard, she could see trees and woods, for what seemed like forever. Phoebe knew that just inside of the woods, a few yards, there was a sparkling stream that ran off the mountain to her left, and flowed off into the lake to her right. She loved the peace and quiet. It was so quiet that she could her the stream bubbling as it flowed on to the lake.
She looked at the phone and remembered that she was going to call and check on her mom. Phoebe hadn’t felt anymore queasiness since her shower, but she was going to check with her mom anyway.
After talking with her mom and finding that she was okay, Phoebe forgot all about the queasiness. She attributed it to stress, because it came every morning, and sometimes, all day.
A couple of days before her deadline, Phoebe started being very nauseous in the mornings, even to the point of vomiting some mornings. Once her third revision had been finished and sent, Phoebe could relax and still her mind a bit. The queasy, nauseous, vomiting continued for several days. Phoebe was becoming weaker and weaker and spent most of her time in bed.
One morning, her mom came to visit. Phoebe had been telling her mom about her illness, but her mom was shocked to see her daughter so pale and drawn.
“This has gone on long enough. I’m going to call and see if the doctor can see you today,” Phoebe’s mom said while heading to the phone.
Phoebe did not argue.
“The doctor said he could see you at 11:00 a.m., so get up and get ready,” Phoebe’s mom shouted on her way to the restroom.
Phoebe got up and began getting her clothes together. Her mom came back into her room.
“Ah, Phoebe, when was the last time you had a menstrual period?”
Phoebe looked at her mom with a blank expression on her face, and then the enormity of her mom’s words overcame her. She sat down on the bed.
“I really don’t remember mom.”
“The reason I asked is because nothing has changed or been moved around in that part of the restroom since the last time I was here. As a matter of fact, there is a half inch of dust covering everything.”
Phoebe just shook her head. She had been so busy with her final revision, she hadn’t thought of anything else. She desperately tried to remember the last time she had sex and who with. She wasn’t promiscuous, but had slept with a few men over the years. Phoebe was in denial, she couldn’t think of the last time she had a menstrual period nor who she had slept with last.
“Hurry up and get dressed. We have to leave soon to make the eleven o’clock appointment,” Phoebe’s mom said, breaking Phoebe’s reverie.
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