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“I’m more keen to believe this young woman is lying, but I’m also a bit cynical,” Dr. McDib says and then smiles. “But it’s nothing a little testing can’t fix.”
“Great. Um, great.”
Dr. McDib rolls across the room to his computer. I remember the days he was working off a clipboard and taking notes on a sports injury I got in high school soccer. “Now, let me just ask a couple of questions.”
My doctor asks all the perfunctory questions, the ones that I always answer in a monotone voice because he’s asked them one million times before, but he’s doing his job by asking again. “And your urologist is –”
“Doctor Simpson.”
“Yes, she’s great. Let me see here…” He clicks around. “Her office didn’t send over your three-month re-check documentation.”
I shake my head. “My what?”
Dr. McDib looks over to me with those scary wide eyes. “Your re-check appointment.”
I blink.
“Do you mean to tell me youdidn’tgo in for your re-check appointment?”
How many times can this guy say re-check appointment before the term starts losing all meaning?
“Um, no, I don’t think I did.”
“Ah! Well, that explains it!” Dr. McDib shoots up out of his chair and goes over to a metal tray with various instruments on it. “You didn’t do your re-check, which means we have no way of knowing if your vasectomy was actually successful.”
“What?”
The doctor laughs. “It’s just an appointment to see if there’s any sperm in your semen still.”
“It must have…slipped my mind.”
How could I have been so careless?
It’s not unusual for me to forgo self-care in the name of my work. Vasectomies are outpatient. I was back to normal in two days. No wonder I forgot about the post-op appointment. I’d all but forgotten about the vasectomy by the time I would have needed to see the doctor again.
Butshit.
“You’re not alone. About fifty percent of men don’t go in for their appointments. And usually, they don’t have a problem, butyou, Orlando, are not like most men.” He shoves a small capped cup toward me. “In many ways.”
I gulp and take the cup. “What’s this for?”
“For your semen, of course!”
Doctors are so comfortable throwing around words that make me blush without a second thought. “Um…You want me to…”
“I’ll give you some privacy. I’m sure we have some naughty magazines somewhere to –”
“I’ll be fine,” I say through clenched teeth.
Dr. McDib claps his hands. “Brilliant. When you’re done, just open the door.”
The doctor flits out of the room, leaving me, the cup, and my flaccid dick. The last thing I want to do is jack off right now.
However, one sad masturbation is between me and the truth.
Let’s get on with it, then.
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