Listening to the Sound of Laughter

Sarah crossed to the front desk where the pretty, young attendant with the nametag "Bailee" was stationed. Bailee looked at her with a near-vacant expression as she approached - whether from lack of sleep, enthusiasm, or intelligence, it was impossible to say. As she arrived, a door to the left of the reception opened where stood another young woman, presumably the nurse. Bailee said, "Follow her," in the same monotonous tone with which she had first called her.

All eyes seemed to follow her as she approached the nurse. Sarah smiled at the nurse, "Good morning," she tried to say in a chipper fashion.

It must have failed, because the nurse greeted her with the excitement of the receptionist. "This way please."

"Have a good time," she heard Bailee say behind her as the door shut. What an odd thing to say.

The nurse led Sarah down a nondescript hall with several closed doors. Through at least one of them, she thought she heard a low, moaning sound that might almost have been confused with laughter had it not sounded so agonized. "Stress test today?" the nurse asked, though she sounded bored and already knew the answer.

"Y...yes," Sarah stammered. Why was she so nervous? She'd been looking forward to this appointment to finally -exorcise- the nerves.

Finally, the nurse led her into the only room in the hall that had an open door, at least that Sarah could see.

"This will be a comprehensive exam," the nurse intoned, as she likely had hundreds of times before. "Please sit on the table there."

Once Sarah was seated on the table (with that crackly rice paper that was supposed to be sanitary but sets one's teeth on edge instead), the nurse stood before her. "Raise your arms."

No 'please' or anything. What kind of bedside manner was this, anyway? Sarah tentatively obeyed. The nurse reached out deliberately, and used her fingers to brush Sarah under each of her arms. Sarah's arms shot down as she shrieked and the nurse lurched back. "Excuse me!" Sarah snapped, feeling the temperature rise in her cheeks.

"Interesting," the nurse said, as though Sarah hadn't said a thing. The nurse then took her fingers and squeezed above Sarah's knees. Again, a high pitched yelp emerged from Sarah's lips as she tried to pull back and slapped her hands down, again forcing the nurse to withdraw her touch. The nurse simply nodded. "You are indeed stressed, Sarah," she said. "Perhaps more than anyone I've seen today. Or even this week. Still, we should be able to help you."

Sarah swallowed her annoyance for the moment.

The nurse continued, pointing to a shelf on the far wall where a hospital gown lay neatly folded. "Remove all your clothing, including your underwear. Put on the hospital gown, then place your clothing, including shoes and your bag, on the shelf."

Sarah hesitantly began taking off her shoes. The nurse went to the opposite wall where there was a small sink. She opened a drawer next to it and was...getting something.

Sarah slipped off her ankle socks. The chill of the floor greeted her bare soles, and she curled her toes reflexively. Sarah continued undressing to her underwear, putting the discarded clothes on a chair for the moment, then slipped the backless gown over her body before removing her bra and panties. She tied the waist band behind her so that the gown covered as much of her backside as possible. Trying to tie the neck string was futile, so she left it. She then placed her shoes, her other folded clothes and her bag on the shelf as instructed.

Just as she finished and turned, the nurse was filling a small Dixie cup with some water from the sink.

The nurse only sounded half-there as she said, "There's a pill on the counter here to help you relax a bit. Take it with the entire cup of water I've left out for you. Then, lie back on the table. The doctor will be in shortly. He will definitely want to see you after I tell him your reaction to my brief examination."

With that, the nurse left the room and closed the door behind her.

And Sarah was alone.

Alone with the buzzing of the lights in the room.

Alone with her cold feet.

Alone with the feeling that this whole visit was off.

But she had been feeling incredibly stressed to the point where it was interfering with her daily life, so this "stress clinic" seemed to be a logical step.

She padded over to the sink and looked at the pinky-nail-sized pill. She didn't know what it was, but the nurse said it was for relaxation.

There was nothing for it, so she took the pill, drank the water, and moved quickly over to the bed. The floor almost seemed to be getting colder.