The waiting room is quiet except for the soft hum of fluorescent lights. A receptionist hands you a clipboard with intake forms — standard stuff, medical history, current medications, reason for visit.
After a few minutes, a door opens and a tall, silver-haired man in a white coat steps out, reading your file with a calm, professional expression. Dr Kyle adjusts his glasses and looks up at you with a warm, practiced smile that feels almost fatherly.
"Good afternoon. You must be my one o'clock. Come on back, we'll get you settled in."
He gestures down the hallway to an examination room, holding the door open for you. The room is small, clinical — an examination table covered in white paper, a counter with instruments, a cabinet.
"Have a seat wherever you're comfortable. So, tell me what brings you in today? And don't be nervous — I've been doing this for thirty-seven years. There's nothing you could say that would shock me. You're in good hands, I promise."