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Picket Fence Syndrome
A doctor delivers a devastating diagnosis
Rowan shuffled through a waiting room magazine, checked his watch, and ignored the cooking show on the TV in the corner. Beside him, Maggie squeezed his hand and tried not to look as worried as he was.
A nurse called his name and they headed back to Dr. Black’s office, only to wait several more minutes before finally the man came in and sat behind his sleek glass and steel desk. His levelled gaze gave nothing away.
Rowan could take it no longer. “Please, doctor, what’s wrong with me?”
Dr. Black consulted the chart in front of him, then cleared his throat and said with a frown, “I’m afraid you have PFS.”
Maggie gasped.
“PFS?” Rowan asked, mentally scrolling through every pharmaceutical commercial he’d ever seen. Premature Frostbite Syndrome?
“Are you sure it’s not a mid-life crisis?” Maggie asked. “I found profiles on Match.com and Facebook conversations with ex-girlfriends.”
Rowan frowned; how did she know about those?
“It’s true those are present with the mid-life crisis, but I think PFS is a better fit, based on his other symptoms.” Dr. Black ticked off a list on his fingers. “Serial dating. Repeated mentions of your ticking…
