I am getting back to doing a bit of writing, staying alive happened to get in the way of doing that. Just a little medical upset, a bit of surgery to repair some blood vessels and good as new.
Nothing very erotic here, either. Just one of those CFNM situations that happen every day in the medical field.
Being a bit long in the tooth, some of you might find my tales less than interesting, if so, be warned. I could pretend to be young and desirable, but the young part went by the wayside many years ago. So, it is what it is here. I am still in reasonable shape and everything works.
Anyway, YOUR day is coming, with a dab of luck you will live long enough to be just like me! For many people my age, sexuality is just a memory. But, I am lucky. I have a wife, she is a Physician, she refuses to allow that to happen.
"Sexuality is just a part of life!" I have heard my Debra say so many times I have lost count.
Lucky me! But, like all of us, she has a few flaws. I found one of them a few weeks back.
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"What's that?" Debra was sitting on my legs, she had been busy rubbing my back.
Lord does that feel good. Even better since both of us were naked. We often take turns doing that when we get to messing around at home.
We also get massages at home, typically twice a month from professionals. Depending on who we have coming over, those can be a lot of fun. If I have to go into detail about what all goes on during those sessions, then you don't realize what website you are on.
Society frowns on that, sensual touch is illegal in our State. (It seems you have to date, buy a fur coat, a ring, maybe a car. CASH is a nono!) But at our ages, we really don't give a crap what society thinks. The doors are shut, the touching is private, no one gets hurt. The therapist gets a portion of their rent covered, we have a good time, and everyone is happy.
There is no jealousy between us. None. I thought so anyway.
What we don't do is indulge in full sexual activity with whoever is our Masseuse at the moment. But touch is just fine with us. So far, every single one of them Debra has hired have been female. My Debra would not mind that one bit either way, I am a bit homophobic so having some cute guy over to give me a rubdown, along with a happy ending is just not going to do it for me. Now I did threaten to go find some good looking guy to work on just her, she simply laughed at me. It seems that male therapists are in even shorter supply in our neck of the woods. At least, any that aren't gay.
Sexist comment, I know. Also true.
There isn't exactly a long list of possible willing therapists in our small town at all. July moved up North, it seems she finished her degree and got a good job at the medical clinic there. Nikola had a few more regular customers than just us and one of them liked her a lot. They got married, she moved to Portland. Same with Rwanda, the tiny little African gal I met when I went in for some tests.
Then I found Heather, now that gal was great! Slender, bubbly personality, and man does she know how to tease. But, she travels, she is around for a couple of months, then gone to lord knows where.
Everyone else we tried would rub out our backs and arms, legs to the knees, anything more was a big NONO. Just the way things are around here.
Oh well. So, my Debra was rubbing my back, my legs, my butt.. and stuff. I had my hands behind me tickling her stuff with my fingertips. We were having some fun.
+++
"What's this?" She asked, and she stopped rubbing.
"What's what?" I asked.
"I feel a little bump here, it's a bit discolored on top, too. Does that hurt?" She slid her fingertip over whatever the hell it was, which gave me a tiny little sticking sensation.
"Yeah, a little bit. What is it?" I asked.
"Some kind of growth, probably nothing, but I want you to come in to the office tomorrow."
Now Debra is a Doctor, she runs the local medical clinic. Which means, I have a perfectly good physician right here at home, in bed with me. But, for anything medical, or anything requiring a referral, Medicare requires I use someone else. Ethics and all that, I suppose.
The way it works is, first we go see a primary, they check things out and refer to a specialist if needed. So, there I sat the next afternoon in one of the silly gowns, open in the back with nothing on but my briefs. In came Stephanie, she is now some kind of nurse's assistant, whatever that is. Way back, she worked there as the prep nurse, taking blood pressure, temperature and weight, then asking a few preliminary questions.
Now she can do referrals, a promotion I guess.
With the huge shortage of medical people, one of Debra's first acts was to get Stephanie certified, I am not sure just how but she managed it. But it's nice, I know her and like her. She is maybe 5'3" tall and shaped a lot like my bowling ball. She is also efficient and very good at her job.
"All right, Danny. Get up on the exam table, lie down on your belly, OK?" I did as she asked, she began to look at my back, and she found the spot in seconds.
"Hmmmm. It's about the size of a pea, maybe it's just a cyst. But best to check." Then she inspected my legs, my shoulders, using her fingertips and a light that swung out from the wall.
"I need you to drop your underpants, Danny." She said.
"You first." I wisecracked, getting a giggle out of her.
"You have to take me out for dinner and dancing if you want me to do that." She fired right back, we both laughed at that. Stephanie is fun to work with, she gives every bit as good as she gets.
Next thing I knew I was on my knees, with Stephanie back there spreading my butt cheeks to check for moles, lumps, anything. She even reached up and rolled my testicles, then had me lay on my side while she checked my penis for anything unusual. I accused her of playing, getting another titter out of her. She even checked the bottom of my feet. But finally, she was done.
"I am going to refer you to Clearwater, out in the valley." She told me.
"What is that?" I asked as I was yanking my pants up.
"Dermatology. There is that thing on your back, and I found another smaller one on the other side, lower down. Plus, there is a small patch of discolored skin right next to your rectum. They are probably nothing, but it's best to get that checked by a specialist, OK?"
"OK." I answered. I left and went home. I wasn't too worried, I know very well that things like this are nothing about 99% of the time.
My phone rang a couple of days later, it was the clinic calling to schedule me. I wrote down the date and time, looked up the address and how to get there on Google Earth.
+++
When Debra got home, I told her about the appointment. I would need to drive myself out there, since she would be at work.
"Clearwater? Which Dermatologist did they book you with?" She asked. I looked at what I had written down.
"Someone named Marsha M. Johnson." I told her. Her face darkened, which I found odd.
"OK, what?" I asked.
"Nothing, it's just... I knew a woman named Marsha M. Miller back in college, but it can't be her." She was still frowning.
"Her? What is it?" I can tell when something upsets my wife. She is normally completely unflappable, so her reaction was a bit out of character.
"Nothing really. Marsha was my main competition back in college, she was always trying to date my boyfriends, she was always trying to beat me at everything. If she did, I had to listen to it for days after, she was just a total pain in the ass, but it can't be her. Hell, it's been over three decades."
"Let's go look." I pulled up the medical system, they have photos, stats, all sorts of information. A picture of a mature, nice looking woman with rather long hair and a bright smile popped up, along with her history. She was a full PHD, married to a Doctor Blaine Johnson. I showed the picture to Debra.
"Just fuck!" Debra exclaimed, then she stomped off into the kitchen.
OHOH. My wife never swears.
OK. This was clear, I was booked to be seen by my wife's college arch enemy. It was also clear that the idea was a sore spot for my wife. Having no idea of what to say or do, I kept my mouth shut, figuring I would wait until later, then dig what was bothering her out of her.
+++
We did exactly that. Debra told me about several incidents that almost had to be deliberate, but the one that really pissed her off was catching Marsha in bed with Debra's college boyfriend.
"Danny, I hadn't even slept with the guy myself yet! Marsha was always after anyone I liked, always. What made it bad was she was better looking than me, and no matter what I did or tried, it was like she was always there, in the way."
"She isn't better looking than you, honey. Besides, that was how may years ago? It shouldn't even matter now." This was brand new, in all of our years together, I had never seen Debra get upset about anything, not really.
"I know, I know. I am just being silly here." She snuggled up nice and tight to me.
"I can just ask for someone else to see me, I suppose." I told her
"No, it's OK. One thing, she was always at the top of her classes, so she is one of the best there is. I want you to be seen by the best. I am sure by now it is all in the past."
She went back into the kitchen, made some noise. I cleverly turned on the news, kept quiet.
+++
Not wanting any upsets on the home front, I did call and change the appointment time which of course put me with a different provider. I just assumed this would solve that, I sure did not want Debra upset.
The morning of my appointment, I showered, shaved and hopped into my big Dodge Ram pickup. The place was easy to find, I drove around for awhile looking for a parking spot.
Ram trucks are kind of big, it took awhile. Then I sat in the waiting room until a rather large nurse with a huge smile came and got me. She told me to gown up, leave my underwear on.
"Socks too?" I asked, she just grinned.
"Yep, socks too." Then she left. So, I sat there in the silly gown which was open in the back, and it sure wasn't warm in there. I think that is part of the new medical method, they keep us cold so we won't spoil I guess.
Finally a younger woman came in, she introduced herself as Carli, told me she was a physician's assistant assigned to Mrs. Johnson. In short order, she was poking and probing, along with a few mutterings to herself.
"I better have Doctor Johnson look at that, she may want to do a biopsy." Then she left, I went back to being cold.
The very word "biopsy" scares the crap out of most people, it doesn't with me since I have had that done maybe a half dozen times. They turn out to be moles, or hemangiomas which are just a collection of blood vessels.
There was a knock, and suddenly Mrs. Johnson was in the room, Nurse Carli right behind her. She was taller than I thought from the photo, maybe 2-3 inches under my own six feet. She had on a white lab coat over what appeared to be blue scrubs.
