Deitha sat there, trying to take in everything that the healer was saying. He was, of course, being very professional and honest about what he was about to do, which was exactly what he should be doing. It didn't matter much to Deitha, to be perfectly honest, and somewhere in the midst of all the talking she found herself quietly trying to talk herself out of going along with it.
Therein, of course, was the problem. She'd talked herself into going along with it, whatever it was, no matter how much it would be awkward or painful but in the moment of him doing his professional duty, she'd started to be less convinced, even though she was nodding and making positive noises, almost as if on some kind of automatic response.
Something about the way he stretched his hands and fingers and, especially, clicking his wrists, caused her to snap back into the right headspace.
Summoning whatever inner resolve she had left, she simply said, "Please, let's just get on with it. The longer we talk about it, the less I am going to be OK with just getting this done." Teeth gritted. "It's going to hurt, it's going to be very unpleasant. I know it's going to bring up things I don't want to think about. Let's just get it done."
But as much as she was trying to project confidence, she really didn't feel it and she hoped that he really would begin swiftly because this was teetering on the edge of some pivotal feeling of "I went and spoke to someone, isn't that enough for a day, or a lifetime?" but he really sounded like he could help, and that he'd do his best to not leave her a drooling puddle on the floor. It wouldn't be good for business that way anyway.
"Do you need me to sit somewhere or lay down or something?"