This is an entry for this month’s competition from a new participant – Carol J Forrester – so please join me in making her feel welcome. Thank you for your entry Carol and good to have you on board! 🙂
Everything In Its Own Time
She kept thinking about that infection she’d had a few months back, the one that had sent her sprinting to the bathroom every few minutes because the urge to pee just wouldn’t go away. It took two rounds of antibiotics and a small molehill of cranberry capsules before she kicked that little health snafu but now she could almost wish she hadn’t.
Bathrooms are cold in December. She hadn’t bothered switching on the heating with the living room log burner turning her home into a hothouse. If she didn’t have the touch of death for potted plants she might almost considered growing topical flowers in the kitchen, add a bit of colour to the magnolia paint she was too nervous to change. But knowing her she would probably buy the one exotic plant that would kill her, dramatically and painfully. Under no circumstances was she going to let her obituary read mauled to death by triffids.
She twitched her knees and tried to shift her butt into a more comfortable position. Perhaps she was dehydrated? When was the last time she drank a glass of water and did tea count? She was sure that there was something somewhere about tea not counting towards hydration, or was that an internet thing?
“Stupid tea.” she muttered, the pot she’d brewed earlier would be absolutely stewed by now and she’d only managed the one cup before the internet world had sucked her in. Common sense had told her that Web MD wasn’t a good idea, type in symptoms for diagnosis; enjoy the rest of your panicked day!
She’d been sure she needed to pee. She’d been halfway through one of her shows, distracting herself from the shopping bag stuffed into the desk drawer, and all the signs had been there. At least she assumed the signs were there, thinking about it, how did she ever know when she needed to pee? She knew it was a sort of… a kind of… it was a sensation of sorts, a sensation that didn’t seem keen to commit to a follow-through.
Staring at the slightly chipped tile by the shower she tried to relax, willing her muscles to loosen.
“Ten seconds, cap on, result pane up and a three minute wait. An extra minute if the result came through as negative just to be sure.” she whispered the instructions over to herself, finally feeling something give.
“Ten seconds, cap on, result pane up and a three minute wait. An extra minute if the result came through as negative just to be sure. Let it be negative, let it be negative.”
She clipped the cap back onto the stick and stuck it in the window sill.
“Oh god please let it be negative.” she begged. “Because hell knows how I’m going to explain otherwise.”
© Carol J Forrester