TILL DEATH DO US PART | JENLISA

PART I: ONE

JENNIE

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A Beginning at an End

February 19th, 2030

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"Sally, don't worry," I stress again for the eighty-year-old woman sitting primly on the edge of the exam table. "You don't have diabetes."

She looks unconvinced as her frown deepens. "Now hear me out, Doctor Kim, I swear I get a little woozy when I don't eat."

I nod calmly. "So do I, it happens with some people. It doesn't mean you have diabetes and it certainly doesn't mean you need insulin shots." I flip her chart open and read through her metabolic panel again for the hundredth time. It's still normal. When I'm eighty I hope I'm in as good shape as she is. "I'm looking at your fasting blood sugar right now and it is the picture of health. However, I would recommend a set eating schedule so you don't miss a meal and feel lightheaded."

"Are you sure I don't need shots then, because Margie and June told me that when you feel faint your blood sugar is too high."

I refrain from rolling my eyes and thin another smile. Margie and June have been offering advice to Sally for a long time. Hence, she ends up with an appointment at my practice every other week. Last month, it was mononucleosis because she had been feeling tired, now diabetes. I'm hoping for an STD next. I swear to God, I would give anything to listen to that conversation between the three of them.

"Sally, honestly, I can't find anything wrong with you. I don't get to give news like this often so I'm glad I can give it to you." I tap my fingers on her chart to beat out the words, "You are perfectly healthy." I flip her chart closed and give her a final nod. "So, let's get you off this table and on your way back home." With a firm grip I help her to the floor.

She doesn't let me go right away, instead she takes my hand. Her fingers squeeze lightly and then roll the wedding rings on my finger. Her eyes take them in with a wistful smile. "You are a good doctor, Jennie...a good girl. I hope your husband knows how wonderful you are."

I give her a cheeky grin, correcting her for the millionth time. "Thank you, my wife loves me very much."

She pats my cheek. "Okay, dear. I'm glad."

I lead her to the hallway and point toward the exit. "All right, Corrine at the front desk will see you out. Take care and don't let those old dogs over at the retirement community give you girls a hard time."

She waves me off with a laugh. "We beat the pants off them every Friday night at the rummy tables."

"I'm sure you do. Keep doing it." I wink at her and turn toward my office. I pause to drop off her patient folder. One of my office assistants grabs it, and gives me a look.

"She's good," I note as I pull the pen from my lapel and confirm it's closed.

"Ah, yeah, we figured. Should we start dissuading her from making appointments?" She creases the folder between nervous fingers. "Corrine was saying that her insurance isn't really paying out anymore on her appointments. They classified her as a hypochondriac."

Frowning, I steal a glance at Sally's departing figure as she slowly slips out of my practice. "No." I sigh. "I would rather she scream about the big bad wolf and there be nothing, than for her to say something and no one believe her when there is something."

"So, you don't want us to slot priority for paying customers then?"

I arch my eyebrow in reply. "No."