Rip Tide (A Ripple Effect Cozy Mystery, Book 2) by Jeanne Glidewell Page B

could be in the future. These old bones weren't getting any younger, you know, and I'd put a lot of miles on them.
    After scanning through several other health-related pamphlets, including one regarding the importance of routine prostate testing, I made a mental note to hound Rip about this recommendation at a later date. An hour and fifteen minutes later, a nurse called my name and led me back through a maze of hallways to a room in the rear of the building. She took my vital signs and entered the results into a laptop computer on a rolling cart she'd brought into the room with her.
    The I.D. tag hanging around the nurse's neck indicated her name was Becky Winslow. Becky was quite chunky for a young woman of short stature. She'd weigh in at around two-hundred and fifty pounds, I estimated. For a woman who chose the medical field as a vocation, she didn't seem to be overly concerned about her own health risks.
    I had to bite my tongue to stop myself from reminding Becky about the pot calling the kettle black when she chided, "You really should speak to the doctor about your border-line hypertension. And speaking of which, have you had a lipid profile test performed lately? I'd guess you're overdue for an EKG and chest x-ray, too."
    Obviously, I had no way of knowing this young, but entirely too plump, nurse's actual blood pressure and cholesterol levels, but would have put mine up against hers in a heartbeat. No pun intended.
    It was probably fortunate that a medium-height Indian gentleman with a stethoscope around his neck walked in before I could respond to the nurse with a snarky comment of my own. After the long wait to be seen, I wasn't in the mood to be lectured by a nurse who'd be lucky to make it to my age at the rate she was going.
    The well-groomed physician who'd just entered the room introduced himself, and said, "Feel free to call me R.G., Ms. Ripple."
    "Nice to meet you, Dr. Patel," I said politely, because I felt even freer not to reply so intimately to a man I'd just met. Using his initials felt too personal for my liking, particularly after he'd just addressed me by my surname. Having read his I.D. tag, however, I completely understood why he went by R.G. in lieu of his given name, Ramakant Gurcharan Patel, MD.
    "What have we got going today?" He asked with a toothy smile.
    "Me, shortly," I wanted to say, disappointed I'd drawn the short straw and wasn't being seen by the physician I'd hoped to get an audience with. But I realized I couldn't just walk out of the room without an explanation, so I explained my current malady. "I've had this twitch in my shoulder that's bothersome."
    He immediately began to probe my shoulder, stimulating the nerves and muscles in an attempt to find out where the unusual twitch originated. He advised me to let him know when he touched a sore spot. "Does this hurt?"
    "No."
    "How about here?"
    "No, not that spot either." If I indicated he'd found the root of my problem, he'd give me some advice on how to eliminate the issue and the appointment would be over before I had a chance to question him on how, when, and where I could meet his colleague. "No, a little to the left. No, that's not it. Maybe a little more left. Just keep searching and I'll let you know when you hit the exact area that's bothering me."
    Dr. Patel began massaging my shoulder with a firm touch, still trying to locate the area I was concerned about. If I hadn't been so intent on my mission, I'd have enjoyed the deep-muscle massage. He asked, "How long have you been experiencing this 'twitch' you're referring to? And how often does it occur?"
    To myself I answered, just once, on the clinic's doorstep , aware that even the single incident might have been an opportunistic figment of my imagination. Out loud, I evasively replied, "Enough that I felt I needed to come to the clinic to speak with a physician about it."
    "Hmmm. How about here?" He asked, pushing hard on my right clavicle. I shook my head then and after