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Summary
“How bad’s the pain?” he asked, leaning over the back of the couch, placing the back of his fingers against her forehead as a reflex more than to actually check her temperature.
“I feel like my uterus is a pumpkin and someone is scraping the guts out before they carve into it.”
“You have such a way with words, Samira,” Jack drawled, “but I was thinking more on a scale of one to ten?”
a.k.a. Dr. Samira Mohan keeps a one-line-a-day journal to track her menstrual cycle.
