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“I’m Dr. Kenny Brown.” She smiled. “So tell me, Ms. Evans, why are you here to see me today?”

I told her the same story I told the nurse a while ago while she took my blood and wrote them all down in the thick file that also had my previous medical history right there on Dr. Kenny’s desk.

I get that it was important to explain my complaints more than once, especially to the doctor. But I hated repeating my issues over and over again, to the point that it felt like they were a tag attached to my name.

“So you haven’t had a period in six months?”

That’s what I said, I wanted to shout, but instead, I nodded.

“No spotting or discharge?”

“No.”

Her eyes looked up from my file. “How were your cycles before that?”

“I think they were fine. I didn’t bleed a lot, but I always got them.”

For the next minute, she intently studied my file while sparing a few glances my way in acknowledgment.

With a tight smile, she finally set the file aside and met my eyes. “I’m afraid I have some bad news, Ms. Evans,” she said in such a professional tone that I really didn’t feel anything from her statement.

“What do you mean, Dr. Kenny?”

“Your blood reports don’t look very well. I hate to say it since you’re very young, but what you have is primary ovarian insufficiency, a condition that leads to premature ovarian failure.”

Good. That was good. Now, I knew what was wrong with me, so I just needed to fix it. “How can it be treated?” I asked.

“Unfortunately, we cannot.” She flashed me a sad smile. “We can get you on hormones to make you feel comfortable and try IVF when you want to conceive, but it’s only an option, not a solution that can be guaranteed. A natural pregnancy is very likely impossible for you.”

What did she just say?

A low buzz screeched through my ears.

My eyes were fixed on her moving lips but I couldn’t hear a word.

“I can’t get pregnant?” I interrupted.

“Yes, Ms. Evans. I’m sorry.”

I thought I was dead before, but maybe now, I was actually dead.

Because I couldn’t feel a thing.

Was that normal?

Was this even real?

If so, then why did it feel like my soul was elsewhere and I was sitting here wearing someone else’s skin?

Everything she said after that went to deaf ears and I didn’t even have it in me to nod along.

Surprisingly, a steady thank you slipped out of my mouth at the end of the appointment and I exited the clinic with my eyes straight and my spine upright.

Because I didn’t know how to handle this.

I didn’t study or learn how to handle this.

How was I supposed to react?