Danielle nodded as she hugged the paper gown to her chest.

Convinced that Danielle was ok afterall, Ella picked up the notebook she had dropped and began using the spiral edges to get at the hard to reach itch on her back.

“Don’t scratch.” Heather whispered to her before taking the notebook away. Ella frowned as she tried not to focus on the crawling sensation in her skin. She examined her arms. How had she not noticed all the red bumps that now coated every inch of her skin?

An audible moan coming from the table made Ella lookup. The doctor was filling out a form and Danielle looked none too pleased about it.

“Blood work.” Heather whispered as he tore off the form and handed it to her. “We’ll go get this done as soon as we get out of here.”

“No.” Danielle whimpered. “Please no.”

“The sooner you get it out of the way the sooner you’ll feel better,” Dr. Lawson said, He put down the thin chart and picked up a much larger collection of paperwork. “Now who is this little lady?” He wheeled around on his stool and slid in front of Ella. She blushed and slid down further into her seat.

“This,” Heather said placing her hands on the cowering girl’s shoulders, “is our foster daughter Isabella, our newest edition to the family. We just picked her up yesterday.”

“Congratulations, how long will she be staying with you?”

“Well, depending on if things go in the next couple of weeks, hopefully permanently.” Ella frowned at this. What did Heather mean by If things went well? Was she or wasn’t she part of the family?

“Ah, I see.” He said. “Well it’s very nice to meet you, Isabella.” Ella reluctantly took his extended hand and shook it. “Well according to all this paperwork you’ve had quite the childhood so far, poor thing.” Ella merely shrugged. “The good news is, according to your latest labs, your blood count looks normal. Very good. Very good. What’s not so good,” He said, before stretching out her arm. “Is this.”

“Twenty four hours with us and she’s already picked up some disease.” Heather said, sounding depressed.

“Not to worry, she probably picked it up at the hospital. Just bad timing really. Unfortunately, nothing I can really do for her. It’s one of those things where it’s just going to have to run its course. I can prescribe an ointment for the itching though.” He explained while examining her arms.

“There was something else I wanted your advice on.” Heather said. “ A few things really.”

“Go on.”

“I haven’t been successful in getting her to use, or even go in, a restroom. Not even the one at home. I really don’t know what to do.” Heather said.

“Yes, I read about that in her chart. Some kind of toilet proximity anxiety disorder.”

“She drew this this morning when I asked her about what she was so afraid of.” Heather said, pulling the picture out of her purse. “What do you think it means?”

He studied the picture a long while before responding. “I think I agree with her original psychiatric assessment. Isabella most likely endured some kind of emotional or physical trauma that’s being repressed and is manifesting in the form of an irrational fear of restrooms. My suggestion would be finding a good psychiatrist and family therapist.”

Heather bit her lip. “You don’t think she was abused in that way, do you?”

“Unfortunately, it is possible. I could give her a thorough examination if you’d like. Check for any signs of sexual abuse. I imagine they would have done that in the hospital, but I’m not seeing any notes or findings in the information they faxed over.”

“If you wouldn’t mind. I’d feel much better knowing just what we’re dealing with, but God, I really pray she wasn’t.”

Ella watched a bit apprehensive as Dr. Lawson opened the door and yelled, “female exam!” down the hall. She liked the situation even less when he donned latex gloves. It was never a good sign when someone put on latex gloves. “Danielle, you would mind trading places with Isabella please. Thank you.”