"An injection," Angela said, visibly blanching. "That sounds..."
"It's nothing serious," Sharon added. "We're doing fertility treatments."
"Please, please, you can get out of the meeting. Just don't tell me about your dripping cervix or your uterine lining or anything disgusting like that. You can go home now if you want. Urggggg!"
Angela stumbled into the doorway in an effort to run out of the room. Sharon could hear her shuddering all the way down the hall.
Sharon paused for a moment, debating what to do. But the choice was simple. She turned off her computer and went home to dream about the baby she was going to make one day if she could just get a hold of the proper medications.
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