Jillian could feel that her mouth was still open. The T3s were getting less and less effective, not that they were so super effective in the first place. She still felt a lot of pain, you know. But now there was a weird grating feeling inside. Not the inside of her body, because she couldn’t locate the grating feeling in any one of her organs. It was like the Tylenol or whatever was starting to grate at her soul.

When this occurred to her, her hands started darting around her desk. She picked up and set down her mouse, ran her fingers over the pens in her pen cup, and typed a few blurts of nonsense on her keyboard, which made the computer bonk-bonk with the error sound.

My soul is messed up now, she thought. She was terrified.

She reached for a Pop-Tart. It was the last Pop-Tart. Oh, that’s perfect. If that’s not perfect! It’s like I’m down to my last Pop-Tart! She tried to recall some mantras, but she felt like she always messed them up a little bit and then she became frightened that this feeling inside of her came from reciting a devotional incorrectly and now, because of that, she was in serious, terrible trouble.

She unwrapped the Pop-Tart with shaky hands and tried to let her mind wander.

There was something about the siding for the house of the soul . . . God, what was it? Something about if you smile at someone, their smile will shine back into you? God, what was it?

“I’m going to go get some coffee,” said Megan.

“Oh, sure,” said Jillian.

After Megan left, the phone rang.

“Good afternoon, doctor’s office,” said Jillian. “Oh, sure. Dr. Schraeder sees patients on Tuesday mornings and Thursday afternoons. Her first available appointment is at one-thirty on the 26th.”

“Well, don’t you have anything sooner?” asked the man on the line.

“No, I’m sorry, that’s the earliest availability.”

“Well, I’m having some pretty severe symptoms over here, and I don’t think I can wait a week and a half to come see the doctor,” said the man.

“I’m sorry, sir, but if this is a medical emergency, I’d recommend going to the emergency room.”

“I’m not going to wait two hours in the emergency room just to have them refer me to my own doctor, ok?”

“Ok, I understand that, sir. I understand that this is frustrating, sir.”

“And I work on Tuesdays and Thursdays, so I’m going to need to see the doctor on a Monday or a Saturday,” said the man.

“I’m sorry, sir, that’s not possible.”

“Why is that not possible? Isn’t Dr. Schraeder a professional who cares about the well being of her patients?”

“Yes, sir, I’m sure she cares about your well being.”