It was a little further down the country road than Marvin had expected. The receptionist he had spoken to on the phone told him to get off the interstate, turn west, and keep going. Really it wasn't too far, she had told him, but it might feel like it was. It was not the place one would expect to find a doctor's office. The office was there for tax reasons, the receptions had sunnily explained when he asked why it was in the middle of nowhere. It was just over the county line, where the property taxes were lower.
His car flew around one curve, then another. Finally he saw it, off to the left. He pulled his old Mercury around a turn and into the asphalt parking lot. Off to one side was a manmade pond. He wondered if anyone stocked it with fish. Maybe the doctors cast their lines in it between patients, or when business was slow.
He came in, wrote his name on a sheet, filled out a lot of papers, and eventually made his way to the back. As the nurse led him to the examination room, he balanced a little fib on the tip of his tongue. He had determined long ago that he was going to lie. He had lied already on the phone when he gave his reason for the doctor's visit, and there was no reason to change course now. So when the nurse directed him to a seat and took his temperature and blood pressure, he went ahead and lied.
She had two fingers on the artery in his wrist, and was silently counting out the pulses. "I'm here for a cold," he said, without provocation. He considered faking a cough, but he was no actor, and anyway, he doubted he owed her that much. So he let it stand. She wrote his complaint down on the top of an examination sheet.
The door closed and stayed closed for longer than he would have liked. He heard voices on the other side, a woman talking, then a man, then a different woman. He thought he even heard a dog bark. Maybe not. After awhile a knock, then the door swung open, and the doctor strode in. He wondered why the doctor felt compelled to knock. It was his house. Marvin never knocked on the doors of any of the rooms in his own house.
The doctor smiled a perceptible bit, then sat on a rolling stool on the other side of the room. He seemed a little far away for a medical conversation, but considering what Marvin had to say, maybe farther was better.
"What's the problem? You have a cold?" the doctor asked. He hadn't even looked up from the chart yet.
"No, doc, that's not it," Marvin started out. "I have, well, you know, problems."
"What kind of problems?"
"Oh, you know, man problems. I can't, like, be with my girlfriend. You know what I mean?"
The doctor looked up from his papers at last. "Yes, I think I do," he said. "You are having sexual dysfunction?"
"Yeah, that's it," Marvin said.
The doctor then preceded to ask Marvin a series of excruciating questions. How often, he asked. How long? At first Marvin was offended by that question, but then he realized the doctor meant how long had the problem been going on. Has it ever happened before? Do you wake up aroused in the morning or in the middle of the night? He answered each question, and after awhile he began to wonder if the doctor enjoyed torturing him.
"Doctors can probably always get it up," he thought. "And even if they can't, they just reach into their supply cabinets and pull out handfuls of those magic blue pills that make every flaccid chump a porn stud. Is he a porn stud? Dammit he doesn't look like a porn stud. But man, they got pills for everything these days and God knows what you can do if you know how to use every single one. Every single one! This guy knows how every pill in the drug store works. He knows which ones will give you the ability to stay up five days straight, and which ones will allow you to please your woman five nights straight."
As he thought these thoughts, Marvin's mouth was telling his story. He had this girlfriend. He had never been with her before, not in six months of dating. He met her at church, which was the reason he waited so long to make a move, but he didn't tell the doctor that part. Finally things got intimate one night and their clothes were in a heap on the floor and then nothing happened. It started to happen -- at first he was busting out -- but then everything stopped. In midair.
The doctor listened for awhile, nodding his head as if he cared, though he may not have. Who can tell. Marvin didn't look at him too often. As he answered the tough questions he would gaze at a plastic model of the human spine that sat on the windowsill behind the doctor. That plastic spine was worn down around the edges from a lot of handling. Probably this doctor saw a lot of patients with back pain. Then he wondered what other kinds of models this doctor had. Any for his problem?
Finally the doctor asked his last question and went to the physical exam. He checked Marvin all over, including the area of concern. While the doctor was examining him, he asked general questions that made no sense, such as where did he work and how many cigarettes did he smoke. Then the exam was over. Marvin sat up on the exam table, and the doctor returned to his rolling stool.
It was time for the doctor to talk. The doctor told him there was a pill he could prescribe that would possibly cure the problem. He needed to take the pill about an hour before sex.
"Yeah, yeah, doc," Marvin thought. "I've seen the commercials. Why is this taking so long? Can't you just write the prescription so I can get out of here? I have good insurance. You'll get paid either way. Just give me the pill."
But no, he was still going on! "This kind of problem," he was saying, "can be the symptom of a medical problem. I can give you the pill, but it will cover up the problem, not solve it. We need to find out what is wrong. You could have diabetes, high blood pressure, a nerve problem, a circulation problem, or a hormone problem. I want to find out, and I am sure you want to find out too."
"Sure, sure, doc. I definitely want to know what is wrong. But I am getting the pill, right?"
"Yes, yes, you will get the pill. Anyway, I will order you a set of tests. Nothing more than blood work. But it will tell us a lot -- it will tell us if you have anything to worry about. I cannot find anything wrong with you on my exam, so that is encouraging. But let's do the tests."
"No problem. Whatever you want."
"Okay. I'll write up your medicine and get the nurse. She will draw your blood." And with that the doctor was gone.
Marvin sat in the room for a few minutes. It would be a good idea to find out what is wrong. The pill will help. But there is nothing wrong with a blood test. Nope, nothing wrong.
He looked at his watch. Three o'clock! He had been here two hours. How long would this blood work take? Maybe he could come back another time. But there was no way Marvin was leaving without that prescription. He had a date with Alice tonight, and he wasn't going through that humiliation again. No way. He was healthy. If you are sick, shouldn't you be able to tell? His mom had diabetes, and she felt bad whenever her sugar was too high or too low. He felt great. He couldn't have diabetes. High blood pressure? Nah. He never had headaches or dizziness. Hormones? He had plenty of hair on his chest.
The nurse came in with his chart and his prescription. She handed him the prescription. It was what he had hoped for: that magic pill on the TV commercials. This was going to be great. He would have Alice in ecstasy until dawn. Perfect. He couldn't wait to get to the pharmacy.
The nurse said, "Wait here. The doctor wants to get some blood work. It will only take a few minutes. I'll go get the things I need and be right back."
Marvin looked at his watch again. Three-fifteen. It was too late. Didn't the pharmacy close at six? Anyway, he had somewhere to go. He couldn't think of where that was, but he was certain he had somewhere to go. He got up from the seat in the exam room and looked out the door. The hall was empty. Neither doctor nor nurse in sight.
He decided to make a run for it. Stepping quickly down the hall, he turned and went through the door to the waiting room. Without stopping at the front desk, he headed straight out the door, bounding like a deer across a clearing.
"They already have my insurance number," he said to himself. "They'll get paid."
His car wheels threw off rocks from the asphalt as he escaped from the parking lot. It occurred to him as he sped down the leafy road that if the pills worked he would need more. Since he bolted from the office without getting the test, he doubted this doctor would ever write him another prescription.
"Well, that's all right," he said. "I'm gonna be a porn stud tonight."
His car flew around one curve, then another. Finally he saw it, off to the left. He pulled his old Mercury around a turn and into the asphalt parking lot. Off to one side was a manmade pond. He wondered if anyone stocked it with fish. Maybe the doctors cast their lines in it between patients, or when business was slow.
He came in, wrote his name on a sheet, filled out a lot of papers, and eventually made his way to the back. As the nurse led him to the examination room, he balanced a little fib on the tip of his tongue. He had determined long ago that he was going to lie. He had lied already on the phone when he gave his reason for the doctor's visit, and there was no reason to change course now. So when the nurse directed him to a seat and took his temperature and blood pressure, he went ahead and lied.
She had two fingers on the artery in his wrist, and was silently counting out the pulses. "I'm here for a cold," he said, without provocation. He considered faking a cough, but he was no actor, and anyway, he doubted he owed her that much. So he let it stand. She wrote his complaint down on the top of an examination sheet.
The door closed and stayed closed for longer than he would have liked. He heard voices on the other side, a woman talking, then a man, then a different woman. He thought he even heard a dog bark. Maybe not. After awhile a knock, then the door swung open, and the doctor strode in. He wondered why the doctor felt compelled to knock. It was his house. Marvin never knocked on the doors of any of the rooms in his own house.
The doctor smiled a perceptible bit, then sat on a rolling stool on the other side of the room. He seemed a little far away for a medical conversation, but considering what Marvin had to say, maybe farther was better.
"What's the problem? You have a cold?" the doctor asked. He hadn't even looked up from the chart yet.
"No, doc, that's not it," Marvin started out. "I have, well, you know, problems."
"What kind of problems?"
"Oh, you know, man problems. I can't, like, be with my girlfriend. You know what I mean?"
The doctor looked up from his papers at last. "Yes, I think I do," he said. "You are having sexual dysfunction?"
"Yeah, that's it," Marvin said.
The doctor then preceded to ask Marvin a series of excruciating questions. How often, he asked. How long? At first Marvin was offended by that question, but then he realized the doctor meant how long had the problem been going on. Has it ever happened before? Do you wake up aroused in the morning or in the middle of the night? He answered each question, and after awhile he began to wonder if the doctor enjoyed torturing him.
"Doctors can probably always get it up," he thought. "And even if they can't, they just reach into their supply cabinets and pull out handfuls of those magic blue pills that make every flaccid chump a porn stud. Is he a porn stud? Dammit he doesn't look like a porn stud. But man, they got pills for everything these days and God knows what you can do if you know how to use every single one. Every single one! This guy knows how every pill in the drug store works. He knows which ones will give you the ability to stay up five days straight, and which ones will allow you to please your woman five nights straight."
As he thought these thoughts, Marvin's mouth was telling his story. He had this girlfriend. He had never been with her before, not in six months of dating. He met her at church, which was the reason he waited so long to make a move, but he didn't tell the doctor that part. Finally things got intimate one night and their clothes were in a heap on the floor and then nothing happened. It started to happen -- at first he was busting out -- but then everything stopped. In midair.
The doctor listened for awhile, nodding his head as if he cared, though he may not have. Who can tell. Marvin didn't look at him too often. As he answered the tough questions he would gaze at a plastic model of the human spine that sat on the windowsill behind the doctor. That plastic spine was worn down around the edges from a lot of handling. Probably this doctor saw a lot of patients with back pain. Then he wondered what other kinds of models this doctor had. Any for his problem?
Finally the doctor asked his last question and went to the physical exam. He checked Marvin all over, including the area of concern. While the doctor was examining him, he asked general questions that made no sense, such as where did he work and how many cigarettes did he smoke. Then the exam was over. Marvin sat up on the exam table, and the doctor returned to his rolling stool.
It was time for the doctor to talk. The doctor told him there was a pill he could prescribe that would possibly cure the problem. He needed to take the pill about an hour before sex.
"Yeah, yeah, doc," Marvin thought. "I've seen the commercials. Why is this taking so long? Can't you just write the prescription so I can get out of here? I have good insurance. You'll get paid either way. Just give me the pill."
But no, he was still going on! "This kind of problem," he was saying, "can be the symptom of a medical problem. I can give you the pill, but it will cover up the problem, not solve it. We need to find out what is wrong. You could have diabetes, high blood pressure, a nerve problem, a circulation problem, or a hormone problem. I want to find out, and I am sure you want to find out too."
"Sure, sure, doc. I definitely want to know what is wrong. But I am getting the pill, right?"
"Yes, yes, you will get the pill. Anyway, I will order you a set of tests. Nothing more than blood work. But it will tell us a lot -- it will tell us if you have anything to worry about. I cannot find anything wrong with you on my exam, so that is encouraging. But let's do the tests."
"No problem. Whatever you want."
"Okay. I'll write up your medicine and get the nurse. She will draw your blood." And with that the doctor was gone.
Marvin sat in the room for a few minutes. It would be a good idea to find out what is wrong. The pill will help. But there is nothing wrong with a blood test. Nope, nothing wrong.
He looked at his watch. Three o'clock! He had been here two hours. How long would this blood work take? Maybe he could come back another time. But there was no way Marvin was leaving without that prescription. He had a date with Alice tonight, and he wasn't going through that humiliation again. No way. He was healthy. If you are sick, shouldn't you be able to tell? His mom had diabetes, and she felt bad whenever her sugar was too high or too low. He felt great. He couldn't have diabetes. High blood pressure? Nah. He never had headaches or dizziness. Hormones? He had plenty of hair on his chest.
The nurse came in with his chart and his prescription. She handed him the prescription. It was what he had hoped for: that magic pill on the TV commercials. This was going to be great. He would have Alice in ecstasy until dawn. Perfect. He couldn't wait to get to the pharmacy.
The nurse said, "Wait here. The doctor wants to get some blood work. It will only take a few minutes. I'll go get the things I need and be right back."
Marvin looked at his watch again. Three-fifteen. It was too late. Didn't the pharmacy close at six? Anyway, he had somewhere to go. He couldn't think of where that was, but he was certain he had somewhere to go. He got up from the seat in the exam room and looked out the door. The hall was empty. Neither doctor nor nurse in sight.
He decided to make a run for it. Stepping quickly down the hall, he turned and went through the door to the waiting room. Without stopping at the front desk, he headed straight out the door, bounding like a deer across a clearing.
"They already have my insurance number," he said to himself. "They'll get paid."
His car wheels threw off rocks from the asphalt as he escaped from the parking lot. It occurred to him as he sped down the leafy road that if the pills worked he would need more. Since he bolted from the office without getting the test, he doubted this doctor would ever write him another prescription.
"Well, that's all right," he said. "I'm gonna be a porn stud tonight."