Winter's Here

I stepped onto The Hungarian's porch and shivered. Although it was in the final days of November, it was the very first time it was cold out. I pulled on the coat that I brought just in case and zipped it up. The Hungarian, who usually watches to make sure I get to my car okay, had long shut the door and moved on.

It was also cold inside the house after the Great Dishwasher Incident of 2010.

I exhaled, but I didn't see my breath like I expected I would. The very last thing The Hungarian said to me was "It looks like Winter's here." I'm glad the outside matches my inside.

***

The next morning I had my appointment with my endocrinologist. He flipped through the results of my CBC and serum chemistry. It was good news. For the first time in three years, I was healthy.

"Now it looks like your body is never going to process calcium naturally," he admitted. He put the chart down and looked at me. "How far away are you from getting pregnant?"

I looked down at my feet and gurgled. Really? We have to have this discussion hours after I decide I don't want to see someone anymore? "Um, pretty far," I mumbled.

"Well you're still in your childbearing years."

What? I'm 29. I'm in the infancy of my childbearing years.

He expressed concern for my calcium levels if I ever do become pregnant. "The second you become pregnant, we'll want to see you immediately. Your calcium will need to be monitored carefully." He kept talking about pregnancy and pregnancy and pregnancy. I wanted to roll off the table with the paper sheet and die.

***

I've been dating in punctuation marks. Periods. Question marks. I want to date in commas, colons and ellipses. I want to date in prose, not statements. Let there be more to the story.

There has to be more to this story.