Strange Diagnosis

Author's Note: This was a fun one to write. Don't take it seriously. As always, I hope you enjoy.

I had a rare afternoon off. Normally, I don't make it home before my wife. She looked happy to see me. I was happy too until I looked at her left leg under her skirt. "Crystal, that looks like cum dripping down your leg!"

She raised her skirt and glanced at the white liquid. She looked at me like I was stupid. "That's ridiculous, Bill. It's just some of the medicated cream I've been getting."

"It sure looks like cum to me, and it's not mine. And what medical condition are you talking about? You haven't said anything to me about having a medical problem."

"Well, I don't have to tell you everything about me. Some things a woman wants to stay private."

"Having some other man's cum on your leg is not something you're allowed to be private about."

"I told you, it's not cum. It's medication."

"Okay, what is this problem of yours that requires this 'cream that looks like cum?'

"It's something like cervix-itis. I'm no doctor. I probably couldn't spell it much less pronounce it correctly."

"Well, that sure clears that up. I assume it's a problem with your cervix?"

"Actually, it's between my ectocervix and my endocervix."

"You have two cervixes? I'll take your word for it. I admit I don't know much about female parts. Okay, your problem has something to with your cervix or cervixes. And you're using some kind of medicated cream to treat it? Are you able to treat it yourself?"

"No, but it's pretty simple. I have to have a ten-inch tool inserted into my vagina and after some stimulation the cream is secreted onto my cervix. It has to go past the ectocervix hole but not past the endocervix."

"It sounds kind of gross. What kind of ten-inch tool do you have to use?"

"Well, it's pretty much like a man's penis."

"What? You mean it's like a dildo?"

"No, silly. It's a special medical penis. You can't use the metal or plastic dildoes. The metal and plastic would interfere with the medication and could damage the cervix. You have to use real flesh ones."

"This is getting really bizarre. Where do you get this special, real-flesh medical penis?"

"The therapist I see has one. I see him once a week."

"And just what kind of therapist is he or she?"

"It has to be a he stupid. Women don't have penises."

"You mean the therapist inserts HIS penis in you?"

"Of course, but it can't just be any old therapist. Not everyone has a ten-inch penis and knows the medial procedure to insert it correctly."

"Do you realize you just confessed to cheating on me?"

"Heavens no, my dear deluded husband. I have not ever or will I ever cheat on you. I have not been having sex with any other man. I have been receiving medical treatment for a gynecological problem. Really? What do you think I am?"

"The first thing that comes to mind is that you're insane! The second thing is that you're a wh. . . . a woman who sleeps around. I can't believe you are saying that you have a man sticking his penis into your vagina to treat you for some medical condition and not see that it is sex. Tell me what exactly is it if it is not sex?"

"Fine. I'll try again to explain. If you don't understand this, I'll just have to buy you one of those 'Gynecology for Dummies' books. I go to my appointment once a week. The therapist greets me and asks me to take my clothes off. After I am undressed, I lie down on the bed . . ."

"Bed? You're not on an examining table in a doctor's office?"

"No. You have to understand. This is a very rare condition and he is one of a very few people who treats this condition. He has to travel to many different cities to treat the very few patients who have this problem. Even then there are only eight to ten weeks of treatment for each woman. He can't afford to rent offices in all of the places he has patients. I'm not sure where he sees the other women, but when he come her, he uses a motel room."

"Oh my God, it just keeps getting worse. Which motel?"

"It differs week to week. But it's always one of those out by the interstate. I thought you wanted to hear how the treatment is done."

"Go ahead. It can't get any worse. I hope."

"I don't see why you're making such a big deal out of this. Anyway, I lay down with my legs apart. He applies a lubricant to my vagina and then . . . "

"What type of lubricant?"

"Saliva. That's the best thing to use. It's natural and doesn't interfere with the medication in the cream."

"I'm scared to ask. How is the saliva applied?"

"You'll appreciate this. My therapist is so nice that he didn't want me to have to use some yucky artificial saliva and risk an allergic reaction. He uses his own saliva. He's very thorough, running his tongue around and up and down in my vagina to make sure it's well coated. It actually doesn't feel that bad at all. It certainly makes the insertion less painful."

"How nice that he is willing to perform cunnilingus on you. What a sacrifice. What's this about the insertion being painful?"

"What do you expect when the penis is ten inches long and very thick and my vagina is so small? But I don't really have a choice. The fit has to be tight to keep the cream from leaking out during the procedure but loose enough for the penis to move without hurting me. Of course, I do my part. I help the lubrication by putting my saliva on his tool."

"Holy Mary, mother of God. Crystal, that's called a blowjob, or does he have a more technical term for it?"

"You sure have a nasty mind. I'll talk in small words so you can understand. Bill, it's not a blowjob. It's just part of the lubrication procedure to ease the pain of insertion."

"And just precisely how does he apply the cream once you and he are all lubricated?"

"That's the really wonderful part. The doctor, I mean the therapist, is so considerate that he injects the cream through a glass tube inside his urethra before he sees me. He says it's not painful for him to do it, but I don't see how it wouldn't be. When we're both lubricated, he inserts his tool and waits for me to tell him when it has reached my ectocervix. He pushes just a little past the ectocervix hole. Then he moves his tool back and forth until the cream is injected. It saves a lot of time that way. Otherwise he would have to apply it after he has prepared my cervix. This way he can do both things at once. I can't believe he is willing to do that for me and it saves me money."

"How do you know it's worked or not?"

"When he climaxes. He says that by using this procedure the medicinal cream has been substituted for his cum. We have to be careful that it is applied at the correct time in the right place. It's more difficult than it might sound. It's not unusual, for example, for too much of the cream to miss the target and leak out, like you saw on my leg. That means the tool wasn't past the ectocervix when the cream came out. Sometimes it has taken more than one ejaculation from him to make sure it has worked correctly. I'm lucky he doesn't charge anymore when it takes more than once."

"This therapist/doctor-like person who provides the treatment, is he the one who diagnosed your condition?"

"Yes."

"And I suppose your gynecologist referred you to him?"

"No. The history of how I found out about my problem is very interesting. Ron was formerly an OB/GYN who practiced successully for a number of years. When several parents of disabled children sued because they thought he had to have messed up because their child was not normal, he got tired of the constant hassle of lawsuits when all he was doing was trying to help people. Anyway, it caused him to leave his practice. While he was practicing, he worked with a massage therapist to help women go through delivery without having to use as much pain medication. Medication relieves the pain, but also slows down the delivery. Seeing the benefits of the massage in childbirth, he decided to become a massage therapist."

"Great, you went to a massage therapist for a gynecological problem."

"No, silly. Give me a chance to explain. He was giving free massages to drum up new business. I went in and he really made me feel so much better. I was less tense and more relaxed than I had ever been. It was almost like I was in a trance. In the process of his massage, he started asking me some questions about my female organs. I thought that was odd until he informed me that he had been a gynecologist. He told me that while he was massaging my lower stomach there was a cyst-like object he felt around my abdomen I should have checked out. If it was what he thought it was, it was serious but treatable. He said that although his gynecologist license was technically not in effect but that he would agree to examine me for free right then. I just wasn't supposed to tell anyone he was presenting himself as a licensed doctor."

"Please tell me that you didn't let a massage therapist give you a gynecological exam."

"Didn't you hear me? He used to be a gynecologist too. I swear. You can be so dense sometimes. Anyway, he examined me. He was very gentle. Certainly, more so than my regular GYN. He told me that it was what he was afraid of. He told me all the Latin names for things. I probably am pronouncing them wrong. Then he told me of the treatment and that I was in luck. He could perform the treatments and would only charge me $200 a session. It would have been much more expensive if I had been treated elsewhere. I have to pay in cash because he was not eligible to bill insurance. He said I needed one treatment a week for about eight-to-ten weeks."

"So, you're telling me you are paying a man to provide sex to you?"

"Bill, I am beginning to get very angry at you. Get it through your thick skull. I am having medical treatments. I am not having sex!"

"Okay, pray tell. What is the name of your doctor?"

"No, I can't call him a doctor, remember. He is Ron . . . Ron Harper or Hardy. I forget his last name right now because he always insists I call him Ron. He's really a very nice man. I think you would like him if you met him."

"So, you say. Where did he do the first massage/gynecological exam?"

"I don't remember exactly. It was near the restaurant where I eat lunch. It doesn't matter because he was only renting it temporarily."

"Let me see if I understand this correctly. You see an offer for a free massage-relaxation treatment from a man you have never met before. In the process of putting his hands all over you, he diagnoses you to have a condition you aren't sure the name of. He convinces you that you need a series of treatments that, by some miracle he is only one of a few who can perform the treatment. That treatment just happens to be him inserting his penis in you over and over again until he climaxes."

"That's more or less correct but when you say it you make it sound like I did something wrong."

"And you don't see a problem with what happened? You don't see that you have been committing adultery?"

"I can't believe my husband, who I thought loved me, doesn't support me getting treatment for a serious medical condition. It's disgusting that you also try to turn a legitimate treatment procedure into something vulgar. I would have never believed it. I am so disappointed in you." She started crying.

"And I can't believe that my wife cannot see how she was scammed by some con man to get in her panties. Crystal, I warn you. If you have made up this incredible story trying to make believe you're crazy, so I won't divorce you, you're wrong. The way I feel right now, I will give you one chance to avoid divorce: go see a psychiatrist. If he or she says you are insane, I will stay with you however long you need to be treated. If he or she says you are sane and are trying to pull one over on me, we will be getting a divorce."

"Divorce? You're the one who sounds crazy. You'd divorce me because I'm getting medical treatment? Are you out of your ever-loving mind? You want me to see a psychiatrist? I don't need a shrink to tell me I'm not crazy to seek medical help. You're the one who needs a psychiatrist for wanting his wife to suffer and maybe die because he didn't like the treatment that was required."

"Crystal, what I need is to get out of here before I do or say something that I will regret."

"You're leaving the house? Just like that? When will you and your perverted mind be back? Can't you see? You're making something out of nothing. It's not fair. I haven't done anything wrong. Okay, run along and pout. But you better be ready to ask, no beg, my forgiveness when you come back."

*****

Once I got away from the house turned loony ben, I decided I needed to talk with someone who lived on the same planet I did. I was going to call our daughter, Bailey who was away in college. As it turned out, I didn't need to call her. She called me first.

"Dad, how could you?"

"Excuse me?"

"Mom called me and said you were going to divorce her because you didn't agree with a medical treatment she had to have. I find it very hard to believe you would do something like that."

"Then don't believe it. It's not true. Did your mom tell you what the treatment was?"

"She said something about applying some medication to her cervix."

"Did she tell you the insertion 'tool' was a man's penis and the medication was his cum?"

The was a long period of silence. "Dad, why would you make up something so gross? Mom says all she is doing is to get medical help for a serious medical problem and you're telling horrible lies and calling her names. Now I can see what she meant. You make Mom out to be some slut or lunatic. I know my mother wouldn't do anything like that. Oh, I'm too mad at you to talk anymore." She hung up.

I wasn't sure of what to say or do next. I went to a motel with plenty of my favorite adult beverage. I was either too angry to cry or crying too hard to get angrier. My mind kept saying, 'This must be an episode of the Twilight Zone. Go to sleep and it will be gone when you wake up.' I needed some advice of what to do. I called up a family lawyer friend of mine.

Edwin had known my dad and we continued the connection of our families after my dad died. I even dated his oldest daughter, Brittany for a while. She and I parted when we went to different colleges and we never really got into a committed relationship. But that's neither here nor there. I told him I needed to tell him the story first before deciding if I needed his legal services. So, I gave him a summary of what happened. I tried to present Crystal's point of view as accurately as possible.

"I'm glad you wanted to tell me what happened before you mentioned the word 'divorce.' That tells me there is still hope for reconciliation. Now, do you think she might be clinically delusional or is she just trying to get you to overlook her affair?"

"I would like to rule out her being insane before I allow myself to get too angry at her cheating. As you know, my mother was diagnosed as Bi-Polar before she ran off with that salesman during one of her manic stages. In her manic stage, you either had to agree with her or you were her enemy. My wife says she doesn't need or want to see a psychiatrist. I have heard of people swearing out a Mental Health Warrant to force someone to be hospitalized. Can I do that?"

"That wouldn't help you. The Sheriff won't take her to the mental hospital for treatment unless the person has been evaluated by a mental health professional to be judged that she is a danger to herself or others. It will be hard to do anything legal to get her to go for treatment unless she has the preliminary evaluation.

"It may seem impossible right now, but maybe you can convince her to go to a hospital of her own volition. From what you said, it sounds like as far as she's concerned, everything this Ron character did was medical, and the so-called treatment was consensual. Now, if she were arrested for something, we might be able to force an evaluation to see if she is competent to stand trial. But even if she cheated on you, adultery isn't illegal, so she can't be arrested for that."

"Then what do I do? Divorce her?"

"I might think about threatening to in a more dramatic way. If she really doesn't want a divorce, she might agree to get examined to show you you're wrong. What about your daughter? Bailey isn't it? Would she help you persuade her?"

"I don't know. I told her what her mother was doing, but she couldn't believe it was true. I can try again. Crystal didn't have any problem telling me what happened. Maybe she will tell Bailey what she told me. I know they have been talking back and forth. I was hoping Bailey would realize her mother needs professional help. I hope she has figured out I was telling the truth about Crystal. She might refuse, but, if it might help, I'll call her again. I guess, if she can't agree to help convince her mother to go for help then I'll officially threaten divorce. Why don't you go ahead and draw up an agreement to have ready - 50/50 split, house sold and equity split, no alimony."

Right on cue, Bailey called me back. "Daddy, I am so sorry I yelled at you like I did. What is wrong with mother? She finally explained what happened and I couldn't believe it. She is sick, mentally sick. How can we get her help?" I explained what Edwin had said. She said to call her if I needed her help.

It was time to confront my wife by myself one more time. I had trouble believing she would not see reality. "Crystal, I would like to come home and talk. Could you meet with me at 7:00?"

"Only if you agree to apologize and don't ever mention my medical treatment issues again." Fuck that. Time for Plan B.

"I guess I really don't need to come there to talk. My message is simple. Go see a psychiatrist and get an evaluation about how you view having sex with this Ron fellow. I don't want to serve you divorce papers."

"We are not having sex! What is this damned obsession you have with sex? I can't believe you want to deny me valid medical treatment. But I also don't want to get a divorce. Can't you see how stupid and harmful that would be? It would not only hurt me but you and Bailey too."

Her tone had turned from remorse and anger to just plain anger. "Okay Mr. Doubting Thomas, I think I'll just call your pathetic bluff. I'll go to the head doctor and he will find me to be sane. Then, if you try and divorce me, I'll make sure everyone knows how you tried to kill me by preventing my medical treatment. I will take you to the cleaners. I will ruin your reputation big time and I will collect money and revenge. Count on it."

We found a psychiatrist and made an appointment. Meanwhile, I tried soothing her feelings. I wanted her to know that I still loved my wife, at least the version that would never think of cheating on me. I sent flowers and took her out to eat making sure not to mention S-E-X. Wednesday I got a rare long lunch break and I called to see if I could take her out.

"Crystal is not here. This is her medical therapy time every week. I'm surprised you don't know."

"I'm sorry. I just forgot." I had to think fast. "Do you know where her therapist is located? I wrote it down but don't have it with me."

"No, sorry, I don't know."

"Thanks." I put my thinking cap on. Crystal said it was one of those motels near the interstate. There were five possibilities and all five were within two blocks of each other. I took off to go look for her car. Of course, it was the last one I checked, the Holiday Inn Express. I got there in time to see Crystal get into her car. I didn't see what room she had left or the man who I assumed had given her another 'treatment.'

I kept under control the next day to make sure she didn't back out of the psychiatrist appointment. She walked in his office with confidence. When she came out, she looked at me, smirked and said, "Someone better build an addition to the doghouse." Then she laughed. I was distraught. Could I really be that wrong?