Page 67 of Born in Grief

And to see Amay of course. The urge to see him, to look into his calm, steady eyes, was an itch beneath her skin that she just couldn’t scratch.

She stepped up to the reception counter, joining the queue there and waiting her turn. Her phone buzzed angrily inside her handbag, but she didn’t pull it out. It was either her parents or Varun’s and she wasn’t interested in speaking with either of them and listening to their abuse.

Her nerves thrummed, her anxiety a steady hum that had her entire body vibrating.

“Next!” The lady behind the counter had the largest wart Dhrithi had ever seen in real life hanging off her cheek. It was ratherdisconcerting to make conversation with someone whose wart was large enough to warrant a place at the table.

“I’m here to see Dr. Amay Aatre,” Dhrithi said, averting her eyes from the wart. Was it her imagination or was it looking bigger? “I’m scheduled for a post-surgical review.”

“Dr. Aatre is in surgery. Dr. Aarushi Rawat will see you instead.” Wart Lady pounded away at her keyboard, a ferocious frown on her face.

Dhrithi’s heart sank. “I’d rather wait for Dr. Aatre. Do you know when he’ll be done?”

Wart Lady raised her gaze from her computer screen, outrage oozing from her every pore. “It’s surgery madam. Emergency surgery. How can we predict when he will be done?”

“Oh.” Suitably chastened, Dhrithi handed over her file. “I’ll just see Dr. Rawat then.” Disappointment sat like a lead balloon in her stomach. She’d gotten so used to Amay’s steady, reassuring presence that she’d forgotten that he had a whole life that didn’t include her.

The woman slapped her file down on the counter and said, “Fifth floor.”

Dhrithi took the elevator to the fifth floor and approached the reception area there. She paid for her review and then went to sit in a vacant chair in the crowded waiting area to wait her turn.

After an interminable forty-five minutes, they called her name and she was ushered in to see Dr. Rawat. It was the young lady doctor who’d come on rounds to her room, she realised.

She smiled at her, but the doctor was too busy perusing the file to notice.

“Please lie down,” she said, her voice impersonal and a tad impatient. “Sister will help you get ready for the examination.”

Dhrithi allowed the nurse to help her into a disposable robe and lay down on the bed in the corner of the room.

“Any pain?” The doctor asked appearing behind the screen, snapping her gloves into place around her wrists.

“A little.”

“Any fever?”

“No.”

With a grunt, Dr. Rawat started examining the surgical sites, her brow furrowed in concentration.

“All good,” she announced a moment later. “You can get up now.”

Without waiting for a response, she disappeared behind the curtain leaving Dhrithi to fumble her way back into a sitting position. When she finally emerged from there and sat down, Dr. Aarushi Rawat handed her a prescription.

“This should take care of any lingering soreness,” she said. “Is there anything else?”

“I was wondering if Dr. Aatre would be free to see me now.” Dhrithi slipped the prescription into her file without looking at it.

“Why?”

The blunt question had Dhrithi startling. “He was my doctor. I’d like to-‘

“I was your doctor too.” Dr Rawat leaned back in her chair, a contemplative look on her face.

Dhrithi fell silent. “Thank you for your time,” she told the other woman and stood to leave.

“He’s in surgery,” Dr. Rawat told her, looking up at her with that strange look still in place on her face. “I can leave him a message.”

“That won’t be necessary. Thank you.”

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