For the next few days, Emma felt like she was caught up in some kind of dizzying cyclone of tests, surveys and "treatment options." Most of these few days were spent getting examined by nurses, having more blood drawn, getting interviewed by Dr. Kline and others, and more or less receiving the full brunt of the term "medical intervention." Emma tried to keep a level head and straight face through it all, but this proved more challenging than she thought it was going to be. For starters, even though all the doctors and nurses (and particularly the nurse who had taken her first measurements, whose name was Martha) were relaxed and conversational around her, Emma couldn't help but feel the weight of their underlying seriousness. They were medical professionals, first and foremost, and they were engaged in treating a disease, or syndrome, or whatever, that was still largely unfamiliar to them. They had come far enough to where they could dramatically stall growth in many patients, like they had with Igor, but by no means did they comprehensively understand the full nature of these growth disorders. As a result, even though they tried to keep the mood around Emma relaxed, she could tell that they were quite serious, and even grave, underneath.
The thing was, even though Emma of course appreciated the doctors' dedication to her case, she wasn't able to avoid feeling like they were acting a little ridiculous, taking everything so seriously around her. As far as she was concerned, aside from the obvious conundrum of her growth, there was still not really anything wrong with her, per se. She felt totally fine, and even giddy at times. It certainly didn't help that whenever the doctors or Martha or other nurses got close to her to perform an examination, it would become painfully, comically clear how much smaller they were compared to her. For example, when Dr. Kline had been conducting one of his customary formal interviews with her from behind his desk, Emma couldn't help but notice that his desk, while being perfectly proportional to the doctor's size, looked almost like a toy desk to Emma...one that a little boy might be given for Christmas so that he could imitate his mother or father, whose desks he had seen during "bring your kid to work" day. This odd, off-kilter thought had occurred to Emma right in the middle of one of Dr. Kine's questions, and she had snickered slightly at the thought, bringing her hand up to her mouth a little to stifle it. Dr. Kline had given her a bit of a strange look, and then continued.
Or when Martha had needed to take a saliva sample, and had asked Emma to bend down so she could reach, Emma had had to arch her body so far downward towards the floor that it became ridiculous. Giggling a little, she had stood back up to her full height, out of reach of Martha's up-reaching hand, and instead got down on her knees...it was just easier. Martha had smiled appreciatively at Emma's slight antic, and both women saw that, even on her knees, Emma was still a couple inches taller than the nurse. As Emma opened her mouth, and Martha reached a swab inside to get the sample, another strange thought had flashed through Emma's head. For an instant, she had thought about leaning forward and engulfing Martha's entire hand in her mouth, just as a little joke. Everything surrounding all these endless tests and interviews was so rigid and humorless and...over-professional...that Emma felt like livening things up with a little joke here or there. She didn't end up following through on this thought, but she had noticed the strangeness of it -- like, swallowing Martha's hand up in her mouth? And closing her lips around it?? That would have definitely been a little weird...which is why she ended up not doing it. These were just some little thoughts that were dancing about in her mind, like little sprites trying to liven up the somber, sterile environment.
Thankfully, she had her budding friendship with Igor to provide reprieve from all the tests. The two of them talked endlessly about their experiences with growth, and about how the syndrome had manifested. Igor had been in a relationship with a woman for a number of years, but when his growth got out of control and he came to the Institute, he found that she had been unfaithful to him.
"What!?" cried Emma, feeling almost outraged that such a kind and mild-mannered man could have been treated like that.
"Yeah, it really crushed me there, for a while," sighed Igor, a little wistfully. But then he shrugged, and gave Emma a genuine smile, though it was still tinged with a bit of sadness. "But what are you gonna do, right? You can't control other people's reactions to this kind of thing."
"But..." said Emma, not being able to comprehend it, "Like...did she ever say anything to you about it?! Did she ever apologize??"
"No," said Igor simply. "She just never came back to see me."
"Oh my gosh, that's so sad!" said Emma, reaching out and grasping Igor's hands in her own. She had recently taken to touching his hands often -- it was mostly an unconscious thing on her part. She just liked feeling how big they were; it took her back to how things used to be with her and Daniel, even though, of course, there was no thought in Emma's mind of being unfaithful to him. Her connection to Igor, in her mind, was entirely platonic. He seemed to understand, even though he also didn't at all seem to mind her grasping and squeezing his hands often.
"Yeah it was pretty bad there for a minute," he said. But then he chuckled, a genuine, merry gesture, that made Emma feel like he had more or less completely recovered. "But that was years and years ago, you know? Things pass, and you just get on with your life. You have to get over this kind of stuff, even though, in the moment, it feels like the pain is never going to end."
"Well...well I just think you're awesome, Igor," said Emma, feeling almost overcome by some kind of sudden, strange emotion that took her by surprise. She actually got some tears in her eyes, and had to blink them out to see him clearly again. "You...you just didn't deserve that."
"Haha, well...thanks Emma," said Igor, genuinely touched by Emma's empathetic show of feeling. They squeezed hands together and continued telling each other stories about their growth.
"So, when was the moment when you really, you know...got irritated, or even mad...that something normal-sized was just too small for you?" he asked her.
"Haha, oh man...how much time do you have?" laughed Emma. "There were soooo many of those moments. I guess they just built on each other, until...hmmm...untilll..."
"Yes?" asked Igor, grinning at her.
"Haha, I guess it was when I realized I couldn't fit in the car anymore," laughed Emma. "I was trying to go to the grocery store with my boyfriend, and...like...it was just...haha, like, I couldn't even fit my legs in! And I had to totally just bend my neck this way and it was super uncomfortable and...haha, I felt like I was in a little kid's toy car or something!"
"Except, of course, it was a normal-sized car," said Igor.
"Well...yeah, I guess," said Emma. "But, I mean...I think that car was maybe a little too small in general though. Like, I'm pretty sure we shouldn't have been so frugal and splurged an extra couple thousand bucks for a little more leg space, you know?"
Igor let out a loud laugh that trembled on the air. Several of the other smaller residents turned their heads toward the giant duo in response, but Emma hadn't even really registered that Igor's laugh was so loud. It sounded pretty normal to her.
"But Emma!" he laughed, "You guys got the car before you started growing right!?"
"I mean...yeah!" smiled Emma, understanding his point. "But still...freaking thing is tiny, is all I'm saying, you know?"
