I’m sitting in a hospital waiting room, on one of the hottest days of the year so far. I’ve already taken two beta-blockers today and my palms are so clammy I can barely hold onto my phone.
My foot taps irritatingly on the ground and I feel like the most worried person in the room, as everyone around me flips through magazines without a care in the world.
I’m here for an X-ray on my ankle, after complaining it hurts first thing in the morning. I’d assumed it was something simple like a sprain or potentially a small case of arthritis until I spoke to my general practitioner (GP) who was concerned it was “something sinister.” Throughout the call, the doctor used the word “sinister” three times, each time jarring me out of my nice, comfortableRead more on themighty.com