An Early Morning

The patient sits quietly in the exam room. Having gotten dressed again, the cotton robe folded back neatly on the table, she sets her book on the desk top to read while she waits. Being a hard-covered book, and being off medications for the appointment, her hands are still too sore (from a night spent clenched) to hold the book while she reads.

The door of her exam room has been left ajar to indicate she is back in her clothes and ready for the doctor to reenter the room. She looks at her watch and thinks that it is still an hour and a half before she would normally be out of bed. She turns back to reading her book.

Earlier, in the waiting room, she was easily 30 years younger than the other patients. Yet when she got up from the chair after her name was called she hobbled like everyone else.

The Rheumatologist reminds her of her father-in-law: intelligent, patient, thorough. A breed of true gentleman you rarely find anymore. No wonder the woman at her regular clinic got a bit flustered when she was able to schedule an appointment with him. The Referral Lady, for lack of a better title, was near to giddy telling our patient her high opinion of this doctor. She stopped short of wishing Lupus on herself as an excuse to schedule her own appointment.

The doctor gently knocks and steps in the room, a puzzled expression on his face. There is much nodding and reassuring that the more unpleasant explanations for the pain, stiffness, and muscle spasms have been eliminated through testing. Changing pain medication is discussed. The muscle relaxant dose is brought up with a note of surprise: "You seem to tolerate a dose that would put most people to sleep!" he jokes.

And she thinks to herself, "You have no idea the depth of my tolerance."