Good Doctor

My name is Dale Matthews. It didn't used to be my name. I used to be called Willie Moore, hell, I didn't like that name but everyone called me that anyway. I wanted to be called William, no one did.

Fresh out of high school, I got a job driving a fork truck. Somehow that is the way things seem to go in today's world, there are no jobs available doing what you like to do. Not in a mid coast Oregon town, anyway.

It seemed that way though.

I hated that fork truck but it paid the rent on my hovel and kept gas in my 5 cylinder Toyota. Yes, it was supposed to be six cylinders but one didn't work, so..? Five cylinders.

I hated that, too.

One day I read this sob story online about some guy in medical school, the day he got his diploma was one of those bad days. There was even a photo, he looked a little bit like me which is why I noticed the article. The story was fairly long, all about what a great guy he was and how it was such a shame to lose him that way.

He had graduated from a prestigious Boston university with honors, now a licensed Doctor.

Heading home on his motorcycle things combined to him being in between a couple of other vehicles, the one in front stopped suddenly and the guy got his bike stopped just fine.

The truck behind was hauling a load of new Chevys, it didn't get stopped. Needless to say the poor dude's end of the stick got short.

I thought about that, more than six long years of medical school down the tubes, poor bastard.

HIS name was Dale Matthews.

Now I had been thinking of going to medical school myself but that takes money. I didn't have any, maybe I could get one of those government loans and maybe I couldn't, but the idea of having to pay them back until I was perhaps 80 or 90 years old or so didn't strike me as something I wanted to look forward to, either.

What to do, what to do?

OK. I became...Dale Matthews.

Yes, I know. Not nice, not nice at all, swiping someone else's hard work, but in my way of thinking, he really didn't need any of that any more.

+++

Digging up records is fairly easy, especially for dead people. It only took me about 2 months, suddenly I was 32 years old instead of 25 years old.

The real score was when I got into the college computer systems, they have employees you see. The employees need access so they give them a password, this one was very clever.

It was 1-2-3-4 with an asterisk? Probably 40 or 50 of the people on that college payroll used that password, no way in hell to ever trace it back to me. Even if they did, my IP number was in Bulgaria. Like most young people, I was pretty good with a computer.

Talk about information though!

Complete with everything a person could need, Social Security number, former addresses, school records, everything. Yep, the real one. Now some might say that would not work, the government knows when someone dies, after all, that gets reported.

Wanna bet? There is a reason why some 6 million Americans are over 112 years old in this country, nobody ever checks on anything. Besides, I was a couple of thousand miles away from where the real Matthews had lived.

Becoming Dale was easy, becoming a real Doctor was not all that easy. How does a person diagnose, how does a person get all the information to deal with medical concerns?

Especially with a major in Diabetes?

Easy.

Google.

Yeah, I know. But it works. I studied everything I could find online, read up on blood work, things like that.

Then it hit me? No way could I really work in that field, but what I could handle was working as a General Practitioner. Could I get away with that?

Maybe.

I spent quite a bit of time studying how the medical systems worked, and it hit me that yes, I just might get away with it.

In comes a patient with something I didn't have a clue about? Just do referrals to someone who might know, a specialist, easy stuff.

That problem all gone, after all, I didn't want to kill anyone, I just wanted the nice fat paycheck.

The "system" I went to work for took one look at my fake resume and hired me on the spot, practically doing handsprings at the idea of finding someone with the qualifications I was pretending to have who would actually work for the pay they offered?

"$85,000 a year is the best we can offer." The administrator told me. "Full benefits of course." The tone of his voice suggested that he thought I would laugh at that. The resume I offered suggested starting pay in the 200K up range.

Hell, it sounded like a fortune to me!

Them being short handed was the understatement of the century.

"Well, welcome aboard!" The man stood up and shook my hand.

Nobody checks. The name I now went by came up, the college records were there, no mention at all of being...well..dead.

And the job was a bit over 200 miles away from my own home town. I knew just about no one, and none of them knew me.

I was Dale, the young Doctor with the straight "A" average, fresh out of medical school. No employment history to sneak in there and fuck up the works.

+++

"You do look young for your age." The man who hired me suggested. I just nodded, knowing that when a man is very young a decade doesn't make much difference.

They gave me my own office, my own Nurse, I sat in there for several long minutes wondering what in the hell I was doing? Any minute I expected the door to slam open and cops would be there, to haul me off to jail.

That didn't happen.

My medical experience was limited to putting band aids on myself, popping a few of my own pimples and what I read on the internet.

Man, was I reading on the internet.

It might have been nice if my nurse was a foxy one but her name was Janine and she was close to 200 pounds. I expected her to figure out that I was not a real Doctor, but nope.

She never did. But even being heavy, I did notice that she was very pretty, and her personality was one of those that it is impossible to not like.

Plus she was handy, I would call her in and ask for HER opinion on about everything, then I would give her a big smile and agree with her, which caused her tail to wag and in short order she thought I was the world's best Doctor.

To be honest, I sort of think she was in love with me in just a few short days.

I even overheard her bragging to some of the other nurses about what a great Doctor I was.

Something else happened, in amongst the colds, the Flu, cuts and scrapes which I learned how to deal with quickly (Google again) there were female patients.

Young ones, old ones, in between ones, housewife types, no end to them.

Women come into their Doctor's office, they think nothing at all of dropping their panties and spreading their legs. Same with their boobs, off comes the bra and they sit there waiting to be groped.

I know the first few times that happened I struggled to keep from turning pink cheeked. What was weird was that none of them were even slightly embarrassed, not one bit.

Thinking about that for just a moment should give a person pause. Come on, this is a total stranger, a male? Women lay back, spread their legs, letting this complete stranger stick his head down there and take a look at their pussy?

Fiddle with stuff, stick their finger right in there?

No one even thinks about that, not really.

OK. So I have to admit it, I liked that part. It was way more fun than driving that fork truck, plus I got paid to do it?

The ones that clearly had something going on down there made me cringe, but I just did that referral to a specialist thing when I saw something going on that didn't look normal.

I did that quite a bit, the local Gyno specialist loved me, I was good for his business.

Man, what some of you women manage to get your you know what's involved with? Still, 90% and more were just fine. The ones that were not, I learned what to prescribe.

Google again.

"Does this hurt?" I would ask, as I fiddled with their stuff.

"N..n..n..no." Was the common response.

Hell, even Janine, my 200 pound nurse asked me to "check her down there" because she had an itch one day.

So I knew she was bald as a billiard cue down there, and for the itch? Hell, I just asked her for her opinion, she told me she thought it was a common yeast infection and I agreed, writing her a prescription for some Lotrimin ointment I read about online.

"No intercourse for at least two weeks!" I also told her, getting a giggle at that.

Janine actually had a very pretty pussy, a sweet curve with a bit of inner lips folding outwards right in the center. I saw her face when I slid my finger in there, I think she liked that part.

+++

I do want to tell the story of one of my very first pelvic exams. The reason is because that one will always stick in my mind.

The lady was named Martha Baxter, she was the wife of Darrel Baxter. That guy you would know if you were from around here, he sells used cars, and runs all of those TV commercials on late night TV.

Mrs. Baxter would have to be described as a cougar, she was maybe in her early fifties.

I walked into the tiny little room, introduced myself in my very best bed side manner. She looked me up and down like I was a Mouse and she was a Cat.

You know the type, well dressed, too much upper breast showing, pretty clothes, perfect makeup, big hair.

After asking her what I could do for her, she told me that she was feeling a little discomfort "down there" during sex. Then she looked at me expectantly like I was supposed to know what to say.

I, of course, had no clue. My computer sat there, my instinct was to do a quick search of "female down there problem" on Google but it was a bit too late for that.

It hit me that I was going to be taking a look, so I glanced over at Janine, then asked her to prepare the patient and left the room.

Coming back in, Janine got Mrs. Baxter gowned up, had her on the table with her feet on the foot pegs. She was fiddling with the foot adjustments, good thing since I didn't as yet know how those worked.

Then I sat down on the little roller chair and peeked under the gown.

Good lord!

That thing was all puffy and covered with black curly hair. Just as I started to reach out and stick my finger in there, Janine said "Doctor?" to me. I looked over and she was holding a latex glove, I held out my hand and she tugged it on.

Looking again, there was this lump of flesh sticking out of the top of that thing, it was easily as big as the end of my thumb. Thinking it was a boil or an infection of some kind, I poked it with my finger and Mrs. Baxter sort of jumped and said "Eek"?

"Is that painful?" I asked.

"No." She answered very quietly.

Reaching out with two fingers, I grasped it and gave it a little squeeze.

Mrs. Baxter giggled and her butt came right up off the table.

OK. So that wasn't a boil.

I stuck my index finger inside of Darrel Baxter's wife's canyon, felt around like I knew what I was looking for. It felt way different than the two or three young ones I had gotten to that point at home, but those were all playing around and I was supposed to be a Doctor here.

For one thing, there seemed to be way more room in there than I was used to.

Then she clamped down on my finger? And I mean, clamped!!

Wow.

"I don't feel any....?" I managed, retrieving my finger before she could take it off of me. Looking up, I saw Mrs. Baxter had her head back, eyes closed, a half smile on her face.

She opened her eyes and looked at me, they were like little slits. One eyebrow came up, I heard Janine give out a tiny snicker behind me.

"Perhaps it is something inside my rectum? A lump or something like that?" Mrs. Baxter asked, huge smile on her face.

"OK. I see? Well. Uhhh...can you,...uhhh...turn over, please?"

Mrs. Baxter turned over, got on her knees on the table. Which presented me with a view that....?

OK, I won't describe that, you get the idea.

God.

OK. Have you ever seen a black dandelion with a pink center?

"Doctor?" Janine asked again as I started to reach out. Once again she had a fresh glove prepared, we got that switched and I did the deed. My index finger went in there very easily, kind of a surprise. Mrs. Baxter sort of lifted her hips when I did that, letting out a quiet sigh. I felt around, but everything seemed like I guessed it probably was supposed to.

Looking at my finger, I realized the glove was shiny, apparently Mrs. Baxter was prepared since she had pre lubed things for me.

Janine stripped off the glove, disposed of it, then gave me a grin with a raised eyebrow.

Mrs. Baxter was still on her knees, everything presented for my viewing pleasure.

I escaped, leaving Janine to finish up.

"Everything seems fine." I told Mrs. Baxter later.

"Should I come back next month for a follow up? You didn't even check my breasts this time, Doctor Fellows always did." She said with a huge smile.

Doctor Fellows was the physician I had replaced.

OK.

I now had this part figured out.

"Sure. Best to stay on top of things. Just make an appointment with Janine on the way out." I told her with a big smile.

"Oh, yes!" She answered, giving me a sweet smile.

Mrs. Baxter was certainly a solid regular customer. Every month she came in for her "checkup", I could set my watch by that.

I always made sure Janine was in the room with me, I might be a fraud but I also was not stupid.

Over the next couple of years I did see several women patients that clearly were there for something other than a serious medical checkup.

It's just part of the job, after all, the system was a for profit organization which meant we needed clients. So yes, I had a few patients I was finger fucking for pay.

+++

Most of the time the work was just like that, easy stuff. Once in awhile a patient didn't look all that good, those I sent on to whomever I thought was best to deal with them.

I even delivered one baby, nice and healthy one too. No big deal, the mother was lying there sweating and carrying on and nature did it's thing, out popped the tiny little six pound rug rat which I grabbed and handed to one of the nurses.

That delivery was a bit like going out for a pass in football, I mean, I walked into the room, two nurses in there and the mother was lying there with things appearing to be well along.

One thing I will say here, with a baby pushing on that thing from the inside, the outside sure looks way different than they do otherwise.

I reached out, just then she grunted and strained and I had this messy bundle in my hands yelling it's head off.

Slippery little thing, let me tell you. But I managed to not drop it, then I got patted on the back for doing such a great job.

There were two long years of doing that, looking at warts, dealing with coughs, sore backs, bad legs, 2 cases of guys actually getting a woody at me sticking my finger up their butts, several housewife types that clearly got a kick out of letting the cute young Doctor see them naked.

One would think I would get bored with basically fondling titties, but I never did. Another thing I did find odd was that the single females acted like they hated it, the married ones were mostly just the opposite.

Just one case of a rash that to be frank had me checking my own hands carefully later since I didn't have a clue what the fuck that was, one broken leg that happened when I had to do my weekly rotation to the emergency department for a shift.

I had already Googled doing that, expecting sooner or later to see one come in. I had the nurse on duty set what was a simple fracture, she was extremely pleased to have the young Doctor trust her like that.

I taught myself how to sew up cuts, even lanced a few boils. One guy had one right between the cheeks of his ass, it was about the size of a half dollar. I gave it a poke with a thin scalpel, then after a couple of squeezes out it came.

I had Janine clean that one up while I went to the men's room and gagged. Janine was just finishing up the bandages when I got back, all under control again. The same thing happened when in came a 50 year old guy, impacted.

God. I wanted a raise after that one.

Man, the blood tests! No end to them, it seemed to be a major profit center for the clinic. But any word a person doesn't understand, just type it into our friend Google, and there it is, complete with explanations.

One old man came in complaining about his butt burning, one look and I thought he had had a flame thrower up there. Different Doctors had diagnosed him with everything possible but none of their cures worked and the poor guy was miserable.

I was looking for some kind of ointment on Google when I saw an article on Lactose Intolerance, so I asked the old guy about his diet. When he told me he had ice cream for desert every night and always had cereal with milk for breakfast I got suspicious.

Six weeks later, he was cured? OK. So I was kind of proud of that one and the old man proclaimed to everyone in our waiting room that I was the world's best Doctor.

Nobody caught on. It got so that I actually expected no one ever would. I was even beginning to think I really was a pretty damn good Doctor.

I even got a 3% increase in my pay.

Then one day the shit hit the fan.

Let's face it, how long would you expect a 25 year old fork truck driver to make it as a full fledged Doctor?

One that had exactly zero education?

You would be surprised at how easy it is.

Almost no one ever checks.

Until someone does.

+++

She looked to be about 25-30, nothing out of the ordinary there. Her name was Karen, it did register on me that she looked kind of familiar but by then I was brimming with confidence.

It was a perfectly normal female examination, I had done somewhere in the 100-150 range of them by then.

I admit I liked that part, women who did not know me at all would come in, lay down, spread their legs and let to look, poke, probe, about anything I wanted to do.

It makes me wonder why every guy that is a voyeur does not just go to medical school?

I had my head underneath there, Janine had just lubed up my finger. Karen wasn't shaved or waxed, just lightly trimmed. Soft brown hairs, sort of a pretty one.

I reached out and parted her outer folds, the color was normal. Her button appeared, not any larger than any of the others I had seen.

"Don't I know you?" She suddenly asked me.

"What? No, I don't think so." I answered.

"Yes, I do. You are Willie Moore, aren't you?" She asked.

I froze.

"You are, aren't you? My God! You are no Doctor, what in the hell are you doing?" Her legs slammed shut, she was pushing at my hands.

Glancing at Janine, she had a startled look on her face.

I did exactly the wrong thing.

I panicked. Had I stood my ground, I might have pulled off a bluff, after all, two people can look alike.

The only thing I could think of was to get away.

Outside in the hallway some of the other staff were looking up at me since that Karen woman was now yelling. Here I was, still wearing my mask, one finger stuck out, the glove with lube on my index finger making it obvious what I had been doing.

I stripped off the glove and tossed it towards a nearby trash can and headed for the front door. Just as I went through the door I heard her behind me.

Honest to God, standing there in the doorway with the sheet pulled around herself, the waiting room full of patients, all staring.

"Willie! You son of a bitch, you come back here!" That Karen woman was still yelling.

I knew who she was now. A year ahead of me in high school, and the secretary in the main office at the company I worked for just a couple of years earlier.

Where I was driving a fork truck for $10.75 per hour.

What in the hell she was doing in my office over 200 miles away I had no clue.