At one o'clock in the afternoon on a Tuesday in May, Lucille Aldrich sat on the edge of an examination table in Doctor Norman's office. She wore nothing but a backless, pink paper robe, and the green vinyl upholstery of the table was cold against her slender ass cheeks. She shifted uncomfortably and watched as Courtney Harris, the young physician assistant who worked in Norman's practice, flipped through her medical records.
"You're fifty-one..." Courtney read aloud, "blood pressure 120 over 60, cholesterol good, all the standard tests come back negative. You're in excellent health, overall. Exercise?"
"I've got two grandchildren to keep me busy, and a boy of my own still at home. I'm always up and moving." Lucille said. "But yes, I do find time to work out. Aerobics, yoga..."
"Of course." Courtney closed the folder and looked directly at Lucille, smiling. "I can see that you're very fit." She looked Lucille up and down appraisingly.
Lucille blushed. It was not just the cold tabletop that made her uncomfortable now. In truth, she took more pride in her appearance than she thought modesty ought to allow. She was lithe and supple of limb and she hadn't gained a pound in twenty yearsβin fact, she could wear her twenty-seven-year-old daughter Jamie's skinny jeans. Her small breasts were still high and firm enough that she could go braless if she chose. Only her silver hair and the fine lines etched at the corners of her mouth and wide grey eyes suggested her true age.
And that's just vanity
, Lucille chided herself silently. In fact, her current predicament had everything to do with her age.
"You usually see Doctor Norman," Courtney said. "Why'd you ask for me?"
"I thought...this problem might be easier to discuss with another woman. It's...to do with sex."
"Ah." Courtney plucked a pen from behind her ear, brushing a few strands of dark hair out of the way. Lucille guessed the blue-smocked PA was about the age of her own daughter. "Well, at this...stage...in your life, Mrs. Aldrich, some decrease in libido is normal."
"At my age, you mean" Lucille snapped. "I apologize, but let's not break our backs to be delicate about it. I'm not twenty. But that's not theβ"
"Of course," Courtney said quickly. "If you're finding intercourse uncomfortable, there are drug therapies we can start you on. Premarinβ"
"That's not the problem," Lucille insisted. "It's the opposite. Damn it, I'm...I'm getting aroused all the time."
"Really?" Courtney looked taken aback.
At least now I've got her goddamned attention,
Lucille thought. "Yes, really. There are days I feel like I'm going nuts. I want to jump every man who walks by in the Walmart."
The young PA appeared keenly interested now. "And how does this affect your marital relations?"
"Maritalβyoung lady, my Frank is counting the days to retirement from his accounting firm. He falls asleep during Simpsons reruns most nights and he hasn't looked at me in, Christ, at least five years."
Courtney kept her head down, assiduously taking notes, but Lucille could have sworn the younger woman suppressed a smile at her patient's tirade. "It's certainly your husband's loss," she said. Then she straightened, sat forward in her chair, and engaged Lucille with a studiedly serious gaze. "In most women," she began, "the sudden drop in the body's estrogen production during menopause is accompanied by steady decreases in the estradiol and testosterone levels. There may be something hormonally unusual in your...I tell you what, let's just start with the regular exam and go from there."
Courtney stood up and walked to Lucille. "Just lie back, now," she said as she flipped the table's obstetric stirrups into place and adjusted their height. Lucille lay back on the cushion, pointlessly tugging her gown down over her slim upper thighs. "Put your feet up...that's it, good. Now, you get comfortable and I'll be right back."
The PA turned on her heel and exited the examination room abruptly, leaving Lucille feeling vulnerable and foolish in her position. Get comfortable, my ass.
Does the child think I'm going to catch a nap