raised her hand, silently asking him to hold his peace for a moment. She was interested in her patient’s response.
“Why not?” she asked the woman.
“Because a doctor killed my husband,” Sophia cried with a hitch in her voice.
“Killed him or didn’t save him in time?” Mikki asked diplomatically.
“What does it matter?” Sophia snapped. “He’s gone. My Antonio’s gone,” the woman lamented.
“It matters,” Mikki said gently. She began to slowly move her fingers along the perimeter of what seemed to be the painful region. “But right now, what matters more is what’s going on with you. What are you feeling, Mrs. Sabatino?”
“Like someone’s cutting up my insides with a burning-hot band saw.” Her statement was punctuated with another audible cry of pain as she clutched at her abdomen again, almost pulling herself into the fetal position.
“I’m going to press a little more on your abdomen, Mrs. Sabatino. I want you to tell me if it hurts,” Mikki requested.
“It hurts, it hurts,” Sophia cried immediately.
“Mom, she hasn’t touched you yet,” Jeff pointed out, then turned toward the woman examining his mother. “I’m really sorry, Doctor,” he began.
Mikki shook her head, wanting to put him at ease. “Don’t be. Your mother’s pain is very real,” she told him. “She’s obviously hurting without my touching her.” As she spoke, Mikki subtly placed her hand first near his mother and then very gently on the area where she thought the pain originated.
She was right.
“Argh!” Sophia cried, her eyes narrowing as she angrily looked at the doctor. “You’re hurting me!”
“I’m sorry,” Mikki apologized. “I just want to be sure what’s going on. How long have you had this pain?”
Sophia shrugged carelessly, avoiding her son’s eyes as she mumbled, “A few weeks, I guess.”
“Mom!” He’d only become aware of the problem in the last couple of days. “A few weeks? Why didn’t you call me?”
Still avoiding his eyes, Sophia sighed. “I didn’t want to bother you. You have that restaurant and everything. You’re always so busy,” she said just before her expression changed as she noticeably braced herself for another wave of pain.
Instead of reaching for a thermometer, Mikki opted to test her theory the old-fashioned way. She lightly placed her fingertips against the woman’s forehead, finding it quite warm.
“Okay,” Mikki murmured to herself. “I think that proves it.”
“What is it?” Jeff asked, looking at the doctor quizzically. “Can you tell what’s wrong with my mother?”
Mikki didn’t want to be premature, but she had a very strong suspicion about what was going on. “Well, I think that we’d better get your mother into the hospital,” she began.
“No, no hospital!” Sophia interrupted.
“Mom, let the doctor talk,” Jeff told her, trying to get his mother to calm down long enough to hear the diagnosis.
“I don’t care what she’s going to say, I’m not going to die in a hospital,” Sophia declared.
“No,” Mikki responded with confidence. “You’re not. But in order for you not to die, we need to get you there in time.”
“In time for what?” Sophia demanded. “To cut me up into pieces?”
“No, just one piece,” Mikki answered quite seriously.
“What is it, Doctor?” Jeff asked. His mother was clutching his hand and he wanted to do his best to calm her, but right now, he wasn’t feeling all that calm himself. “What’s wrong with my mother?”
“I need to run some tests,” Mikki prefaced.
“I got all that. I understand. Just tell me what you suspect is wrong,” Jeff said.
“Well,” Mikki began, “with any luck—”
“Luck? You call feeling like someone set your insides on fire lucky?” Sophia cried indignantly. “Take me home, Jeff!”
“Let her talk, Mom,” Jeff ordered, surprising his mother with his abrupt tone. He turned toward Mikki. “Doctor?”
“Best guess,” Mikki said, enunciating every word as she looked at the all but terrified woman on her examination table, “is that it looks as if your mother has appendicitis.”
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