It was hell waiting for the results, I knew everything would be okay, well, I hoped it would, one slip up is nothing right?
When the doctor came into the room, the look on his face made my bladder lose control of itself for a few moments. He ran a sweaty hand through what little hair was on his head, and said, we need to take you in for more tests.
I asked the questions, the ones any of us would, but he couldn’t give me an answer. I said when, he handed me a container and said now, it was important to get on top of it all before it’s too late.
TOO LATE? WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAN MEAN!
He pointed me in the direction of the toilets, I did my business and quickly returned to him, with an overflowing container. He looked at me, put on a glove and took if from me, then he handed me another container, what’s this for? I asked him. He said they needed another sample, one I would have to work for. I knew what he meant, again, I asked him what could be wrong with me, he once more brushed off my question with the, it’s just a precaution answer.
So, I went to a room they had secluded in the back, it was kitted out with all the things one would need, books, DVDs, and, access to the internet, for people with needs, none of these met. I can tell you, I’ve never worked as hard as I did then, to get my rocks off. The beast wouldn’t stand, he didn’t want to know about anything, in case there was something wrong with his equipment, and, I didn’t blame him. But, after fifteen minutes of coaxing, he delivered what the doctor needed and I quickly ran back to his office.
The fucker had taken another patient by that time, but, I barged in anyway, sweat running down my face, and a half full container of my little guys, thrust into the young woman’s face he was seeing to at the time.
I don’t know who was more embarrassed, in the end, I think it was me.
The doctor took the sample and asked me to wait in the adjacent room, which I did, for twenty five minutes.
Finally, he came walking, nervously, into the room.
My heart jumped, the room started to close in, I tightly gripped the seat, and wet myself once more. He started off with apoligising to me, saying how sorry he was, I cried, screamed I think, he tried to calm me down, but I just pushed him away, demanding to know how long I had left, to know what was wrong with me.
He started yell, pleading for me to listen, that there had been a mistake with my first round of tests and that everything was clear, I was fine.
I collapsed into the seat, relieved, I could feel my heart slowly returning to normal, and the room, expanded again, everything, once more, was back to normal.
Then, calmly, he started explaining to me how there had been an accident in the labs, my test… That’s the last thing he said to me, as I drove a solid left hook into his jaw, knocking him to the ground, then stormed out.
So, a word of warning, if any of you see Doctor Arno Guesser, at Silicone Heart Way Medical, find someone else, because that jerk is a waste of space.