@dee-voss
As predicted, Eloise had woken up not feeling any better than she had any of the days before. In fact, she’d managed to actually throw up instead of just suffering with the never-ending-nausea, which meant that she was actually maybe getting worse as time ticked on. Certainly not better, and that had been her agreement…even if she, as predicted, definitely tried to back pedal. She’d already taken the day off work, had called in the night before to give plenty of warning before her early morning shift, that was a good start, right? Maybe give it a few more days, see how she was feeling then. She’d definitely felt more solid in her argument before the puking. Didn’t really have a solid leg to stand on, after. No, the whole argument about just being tired and wearing herself too thin went literally right down the drain, so pouty as she might be, she went ahead and called ahead to the walk in; that was the better option, far better than the clinic on the ground floor of the hospital where the chance of running into her father or brother was definitely above zero and she wasn’t looking to open that can of worms. Especially not with the company she planned on bringing along - Dee had offered to drive the night before, and well, she was taking him up on that and then some by dragging him along for the entirety of it. Definitely better to eliminate any and all possibilities of running into her family, better to go with the route that wouldn’t have any hiccups or snafus when she already felt like she was going to lose what was left of her breakfast in the waiting room. And what a wait it was, as it always was at the walk-in, which is why she usually avoided it. Waiting and waiting, but at least she’d had company (and a book, but she kept that tucked away, much more interested in Dee’s presence than re-reading Little Women for what had to be the thousandth time) to get her through it. Finally, they’d at least gotten into a room to start the process of more waiting…but at least this waiting came after a few swabs and a poke to run a few tests to figure out just why in the hell she couldn’t stop feeling like shit and why things seemed to be progressing, and well, at least this waiting was back in a room. Baby steps, even if they were stupidly slow. Eloise had started a game of tic tac toe on a library receipt she’d found in her purse (desperate times) when the door finally opened, and the doctor thankfully wasted no (more) time and jumped right into it as Eloise tucked the receipt and pen away: ”Glad to be able to say we have some answers for you, Miss Meadows. While it sounds like you could benefit from some time off, I can definitively say that your symptoms are not related to illness. You’re pregnant.” That….that had not even made the short list. Or the long list. Or any list, and well, Eloise Meadows was a list maker and had definitely made at least a few when trying to problem-solve this situation herself. Hadn’t even been a thought, which was why she was rendered silent as she shifted to uncross her legs and the crinkle from the tearaway paper-roll on the table beneath her felt and sounded fucking deafening. “...What?” Definitely not the most articulate in terms of responses, but her mouth was dry and she was half-certain she was going to be sick again. All she had, for the moment, until she managed: “Could you..repeat that?”