Page 162 of Like a Power Play
Close call—especially since we’re not mutuals, which means I had to search her up specifically.
But the only reason I looked her up was because she bailed on our practice plans to go to some campus poetry slam, and I wanted to make sure she wasn’t lying.
That’s theonlyreason.
“Oh.” I force a shrug. But after a second, I feel my expression shift, so I play it off with a taunt. “Planning to be a rocket scientist, Icarus? That’ll get you closer to the sun.”
Peyton grins. “Something like that. You should come watch. Maybe kinematics will help you block my shots better.”
Her cheek bulges slightly as she tries to bite back a full smile, tongue pressing to the inside of her lip. I take a step closer, watching her pupils dilate as I loom over her. There are two things in this world that have made me appreciate my height:
Hockey, and Peyton Clarke.
“Maybeyoushould—”
A buzz interrupts me, vibrating through my back pocket into my left ass cheek. My body tenses, and I pull my phone out, glancing at the screen.
MyChart: You have new test results.
Promptly, a lump rises in my throat. I clear it, making just enough room in my esophagus to speak.
“Hold on.” I lean toward Cleo, cutting into her conversation. “Sorry to interrupt, but I have a…thing. Do you mind if I take a break?”
Cleo smiles, though her forehead creases in concern. “No, I’m good, D.” She waves me off. “Do your thing.”
I nod, casting Peyton a look that saysthis conversation isn’t over, then glance around the union building, searching for an empty space. In the far, right corner of the outrageously large room, I see just the spot.
With each step, I feel these painful balls in my knees, smacking against one another like a torturous Newton’s Cradle. Once I’m semi-isolated from the chaos, I click on the notification, and log in to my patient portal.
You have new test results, it says.
Lucky me.
After staring at the sentence for what feels like forever, I suck in a breath, and scroll down.
Once I read these results, everything becomes real.
Of course, I know, it already is. The pain is real. The unpredictability is real. The unraveling of every plan I ever had for my life is real.
But this places the gravestone.
It confirms that the meds aren’t working. It confirms I’m getting worse. It’s going to dictate what happens to me next.
I’m no stranger to pain. Not just from RA, but from a lifetime on the ice. I’m used to ripping off Band-Aids that have fused to the skin.
And that’s what I need to do now.
I shift my gaze back to the luminescent screen, and read the results.
Ultrasound Examination
View: Adequate
Findings: Presence of boutonnière deformity in the right fifth digit. Synovitis and joint effusion noted in both patellas. Left wrist shows moderate tendinopathy. Structural damage identified in the right medial patellofemoral ligament.
The upside of being a bio major is that I can actually understand all of this.
The downside? I understand all of it, and it’sbad.
