“Mrs.

Harrison,” the nurse called from the inner hallway door.

I pushed myself up using the vinyl armrests, wincing as my heel touched the floor.

The medical assistant weighed me, took my blood pressure, and entered my insurance card into the clinic computer.

“Dr.

Miller will be right in,” she said, pulling the paper cover across the exam table.

Dr.

Miller, a small woman with graying hair, came into the room three minutes later carrying a metal clipboard.