Waiting

     The only thing worse than having some horrible illness or an incurable std is waiting to hear if you have been diagnosed with said illness or std.  Luckily Derich was there with me to ride out the wait.

     “You moron,” he said slapping his forehead, “why would you tell her how many people you slept with?”

     Derich was in a particularly foul mood.  His job was going well but the workload was weighing him down.  It had been three years since he was supposed to have received his golden parachute.  He was trapped.  He had a good job with a good salary.  Things were good but they weren’t good enough.  There was also the hint that things with Karen were a bit tense.

     Hibernation was just around the corner for me so my nerves were a bit frayed.  Waiting a week to hear back from the doctor wasn’t helping.  I was already thinking to back to every relationship, hug, make out session, random hook up and one night stand.

     I was already thinking about the phone calls I’d have to make.  I could only imagine them. ‘Hey long time no chat.  I hope things are going well.  Oh by the way have you been tested for (insert disease)’.

     “Because she’s my doctor.”  I pushed back.  “Why the hell would I lie to my doctor about shit like that?”

     “Because she doesn’t need to know,” he said with a straight face.  “The whole system is garbage.  You can have the best insurance in the world and still leave the doctor’s office owing $500 because of some bullshit ‘test’ they want to run.”

     “So what doesn’t Karen need to know?” I heard myself ask before I knew I asked the question.

     Our phones rang at the same time.

     “I gotta go,” he said looking at his screen.  He threw a $20 bill on the bar and headed for the door.

     I stared at my phone.  It was 7:40 on a Friday evening.  The caller ID said Doctor’s Office.

     “Hey, Doc,” I said stepping into the bathroom, “what’s going on?”  I could feel the sweat on the back of my neck.  I looked for an empty stall to throw up in if necessary.

     “Well, your tests came back.”  I unknowingly held my breath while she paused.  “Your blood sugar looks fine, your cholesterol is surprisingly good, your LDLs and HDLs, your results are right where they need to be.”

     “Even though I’m fat?” I asked trying to lighten the mood with a little laugh.

     Silence.

     “Doc, it’s 7:40 on a Friday night.  Good news can usually wait until Monday morning.”

     She took a deep breath then took a moment to exhale.

     “As I said, your results are right where they need to be.  Your STD tests came back negative...”

      My heart stopped, then I remembered in this case negative meant positive.

     “Thank you, Jesus!!” I said giving the victory sign with both arms then snapped my fingers as I pointed to myself in the mirror.

     “BUT,” she said in her stern no bullshit manner, “I really wanted to talk to you about this.”

     “Why, Doc?  Everything is fine.”

     “Promiscuity can be a sign of low self esteem.  Low self esteem is a precursor to depression.  You mentioned it had been a rough few months and I just wanted to make sure you had someone to talk to so things didn’t spiral out of control like they did a few years ago.”

     It was my turn to take a deep breath.

     “I’m ok, Doc.  I realized a few years ago even if your feet are nailed to the floor you can still reach for the stars.  I’m good.”

     “If you need someone to speak with let me know and I write a referral.”

     “Thank you, Doc.”

     I hung up the phone and pointed in the mirror one more time.  I thought back to Derich.  He was in a foul mood and he felt trapped.  I had a feeling even if his call was good it wouldn’t be good enough.