opposite his office.
3
Sheila almost fainted when he pushed open the door to reveal the operating room and the vast array of medical equipment. She started to say something but stopped herself when Doctor Scott gently directed her over to the center of the room where there was a large, padded chair surrounded by banks of monitors and other medical equipment. She had no idea what any of this stuff was for.
“You can undress behind the screen there. Put this on,” Doctor Scott said, handing her a thin cotton hospital gown that opened in the back.
Sheila shivered as she walked behind the screen and after hurriedly undressing, slipped on the thin gown. It did nothing to cut the chill in the room. She smoothed the cloth down over her swollen abdomen, which stuck straight out, carrying high. “Megs,” one of her friends on the street, told her that meant it was a boy, but Silver John said it meant the opposite. She thought she looked like she had swallowed a watermelon seed that had miraculously grown to be huge inside her. Her teeth were chattering when she came out from behind the screen. Hugging her arms across her breasts, she walked up to the chair.
“Please. Sit down. Make yourself comfortable.” Doctor Scott nodded toward the chair as he busied himself arranging some of the equipment. “I’ll only be a moment.”
He went to the sink and started scrubbing his hands with disinfectant soap while Sheila took a seat in the chair. She winced as she settled her bare butt onto the cold, padded cushion. The gown flapped open on the sides when she slipped her feet into the leather stirrups of the footrests. There were also straps on the arms of the chair, but she crossed her arms to keep away from them. She hoped the doctor wasn’t going to use them on her. She didn’t like being restrained.
There was a wide gap in the front of the seat that made it look like a large toilet seat. An electric current of fear passed through her, and she found herself wishing that she had talked a least a little bit more with the doctor at the prenatal clinic before making this decision. Not knowing exactly what to expect next made her stomach tighten with tension.
“I’m sorry, but I have to secure your arms, too,” Doctor Scott said mildly.
“Do you really have to?” Sheila’s voice cracked with nervousness.
“’Fraid so,” Doctor Scott said as he tore open the Velcro fasteners of the padded straps. Sheila winced as she placed her arms inside the restraints. The doctor pulled them snugly shut, but not so tight that they hurt. Then he secured the belts on the footrests over her bare feet. An icy ripple of nervousness spread up from her stomach to her chest, making it difficult to breathe, but as if to convince herself that she was doing the right thing, Sheila looked down at her swollen stomach and sneered.
“Say good-bye to a life of misery,” she whispered.
“There ... You’re all set,” Doctor Scott said as if he hadn’t heard her comment. “Now, the first thing I have to do is give you an injection to relax you.”
He produced a hypodermic needle, held it up to the light, and then pulled up the left sleeve of the hospital gown. After daubing Sheila’s skin with alcohol, he slid the needle into the exposed vein. For a instant, there was a sharp sting like an insect bite. Then a warm flooding sensation spread underneath her skin. A few seconds later, a wave of soft dizziness swept over her. The lights in the room went softly out of focus.
“It’s not too late now, is it—?” she asked, hearing the tension in her voice.
“You mean to change your mind?” Doctor Scott said, frowning with concern. “Not as long as I haven’t given you the second injection. We can still—”
“No, I mean for me to be doing this,” Sheila said groggily. “Tin-pan Man, a friend of mine, told me that—you know—that an abortion’s kinda dangerous ... especially when the pregnancy is this far along.”
“Oh, most
3
Sheila almost fainted when he pushed open the door to reveal the operating room and the vast array of medical equipment. She started to say something but stopped herself when Doctor Scott gently directed her over to the center of the room where there was a large, padded chair surrounded by banks of monitors and other medical equipment. She had no idea what any of this stuff was for.
“You can undress behind the screen there. Put this on,” Doctor Scott said, handing her a thin cotton hospital gown that opened in the back.
Sheila shivered as she walked behind the screen and after hurriedly undressing, slipped on the thin gown. It did nothing to cut the chill in the room. She smoothed the cloth down over her swollen abdomen, which stuck straight out, carrying high. “Megs,” one of her friends on the street, told her that meant it was a boy, but Silver John said it meant the opposite. She thought she looked like she had swallowed a watermelon seed that had miraculously grown to be huge inside her. Her teeth were chattering when she came out from behind the screen. Hugging her arms across her breasts, she walked up to the chair.
“Please. Sit down. Make yourself comfortable.” Doctor Scott nodded toward the chair as he busied himself arranging some of the equipment. “I’ll only be a moment.”
He went to the sink and started scrubbing his hands with disinfectant soap while Sheila took a seat in the chair. She winced as she settled her bare butt onto the cold, padded cushion. The gown flapped open on the sides when she slipped her feet into the leather stirrups of the footrests. There were also straps on the arms of the chair, but she crossed her arms to keep away from them. She hoped the doctor wasn’t going to use them on her. She didn’t like being restrained.
There was a wide gap in the front of the seat that made it look like a large toilet seat. An electric current of fear passed through her, and she found herself wishing that she had talked a least a little bit more with the doctor at the prenatal clinic before making this decision. Not knowing exactly what to expect next made her stomach tighten with tension.
“I’m sorry, but I have to secure your arms, too,” Doctor Scott said mildly.
“Do you really have to?” Sheila’s voice cracked with nervousness.
“’Fraid so,” Doctor Scott said as he tore open the Velcro fasteners of the padded straps. Sheila winced as she placed her arms inside the restraints. The doctor pulled them snugly shut, but not so tight that they hurt. Then he secured the belts on the footrests over her bare feet. An icy ripple of nervousness spread up from her stomach to her chest, making it difficult to breathe, but as if to convince herself that she was doing the right thing, Sheila looked down at her swollen stomach and sneered.
“Say good-bye to a life of misery,” she whispered.
“There ... You’re all set,” Doctor Scott said as if he hadn’t heard her comment. “Now, the first thing I have to do is give you an injection to relax you.”
He produced a hypodermic needle, held it up to the light, and then pulled up the left sleeve of the hospital gown. After daubing Sheila’s skin with alcohol, he slid the needle into the exposed vein. For a instant, there was a sharp sting like an insect bite. Then a warm flooding sensation spread underneath her skin. A few seconds later, a wave of soft dizziness swept over her. The lights in the room went softly out of focus.
“It’s not too late now, is it—?” she asked, hearing the tension in her voice.
“You mean to change your mind?” Doctor Scott said, frowning with concern. “Not as long as I haven’t given you the second injection. We can still—”
“No, I mean for me to be doing this,” Sheila said groggily. “Tin-pan Man, a friend of mine, told me that—you know—that an abortion’s kinda dangerous ... especially when the pregnancy is this far along.”
“Oh, most
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