Six Pairs of Thick Gray Socks Saved My White House on Elm Street

exam room a minute later, wearing his white lab coat and rotating his fountain pen between his fingers. He looked at my face, then led me into his private office, closing the door behind us.

“You look pale, Martha,” he said, sitting at his desk. “Are the leg cramps returning?”

“My legs are fine,” I said, pulling the folded photocopy from my purse. “I continue reading …