It was a little past noon and I was leaving Kaiser after a doctor visit. I had been under orders to have a bleeding mole looked at and to ask about trichomoniasis. Ew, right? Well, my doctor effectively pooh-poohed concerns about both. The mole bled because my fingernail caught on it and it was being irritated by the elastic on my boxers. The trich had been found on a woman friend who might conceivably have passed it on to me but the doc said only women get it. This may be why it was not in the panel of tests they ran on my blood last week. May. I dunno. And yeah, the Web says differently, but I'm gonna trust my doctor. That's what they're for.
Armed with that level of authority, he asked for more. He knows I'm in an "open" relationship but I told him we're not terribly active. I don't know as he would see it that way but I do. I never really figured out exactly what my natural rhythm of sex with multiple people might be if I had my social life dialed in, and I'm comfortable with the likelihood that I never will. It's so much damn trouble. You know? I'm not in my thirties. My partner is and so are many of our playful friends, but she's slowed down a lot too. Got what she wanted out of it, I think, which might be to say a determination that I am reasonably satisfying, yeah, just me. I dunno. Who has time to worry about that? Point is, when I said to my doctor, eh, you don't wanna know, he said he should, because he was my doctor.
Well, he didn't hear much anyway. I said something vague about the woman friend and that both my partner and I could be considered at risk, but that was only enough to fuel the imagination. Mainly the conversation served as an opportunity for him to mention how stale marriages can get, how badly people can take each other for granted. He admires me, he said. I was unhappy and I did something about it, and now I'm in a situation that, while unusual, by all accounts makes me happy. It's very clear to me that he on the other hand is miserable. He actually talked with me about the poor relationship he has with his wife a couple three years ago. By the look on his face it has only gotten worse. But he has no alternatives. Like some others I have known who come from a conservative traditional Mexican background, there is absolutely no option but complete and monogamous commitment to your first marriage. He's at peace with that, apparently, but I don't think there's a lot of happiness in his household.
I was sent away with a Band-Aid and a few little packets of some antibiotic cream which he clearly thought were a placebo in my case. Walking out into the noonday heat I suddenly thought of the day's historic news and how nice it would be to check in on the old bro. So I called him while walking to the car.
"How are you?"
"Oh, about the same."
"How's Aiden?" (Not his real name.)
"Like usual. Which usually isn't very good."
"Well, so--"
"We're about to have lunch."
"I'm walking to the car. This'll be short. What'd you think of the big decision today?"
"Mm. Good."
"I mean, think you and Aiden will ever do anything with it?"
"Oh, I suppose so. Not anytime soon. Jindal has always been opposed to it."
There wasn't much I could add to such enthusiasm so I rung off, got in the rolling oven, and went back to the office. Lots of excitement about the decision today!
The timing is rather good. Tomorrow is Gay Pride Day or whatever you call it and the parades and parties will be more festive than ever. A lot of friends are going down to the City. I really would like to as well, but I don't feel as though I've had enough of a chance to focus on my home and am looking forward to the chance to do so without distraction. Seems every weekend these days starts with "Yay I get to stay home" and ends up happily filled with being sociable instead. I do enjoy it, I really do, make no mistake. But I've got shit to do and my deadlines are not getting further away ... or if there aren't deadlines, there are things that have taken way too long to happen. Things to do with the closet and the garage and the yard and the electric trike and my various accoutrements for Burning Man, which is less than two months away. No, tomorrow would be great for San Francisco bar-hopping and loving the weather but the party isn't mine specifically and I remain inclined to stay in town.
But hey. Yay for everyone!
5 comments:
Don't trust the doc. Docs are people. People align along bell curves. Men can get trich. It's one pill. Get the pill. Take it. Give one to every female you've touched sexually and whom you are likely to touch again sexually. Then three months later, repeat the process. Just do it. It's cheap and effective and you've nothing to lose.
Holy fuck, man. Doctors can be idiots. The fucking CDC disagrees with your doctor!
And if you want complete and accurate information from a doctor, no matter how uninformed he is on one topic, you need to give him or her complete and factual information. You're not breaching any privacy concerns. Tell him the type of sexual contact and the frequency. Tell him about your partner's interaction. Not whether she's "slowed down some" or not. Give him numbers. Data. Yes, you're both at risk. And if you two aren't using dental dams and condoms, washing frequently, getting full-up STD panels on a regular basis, then you're increasing that risk exponentially with each encounter. Especially if your play partners have multiple other partners.
Jeezuz.
Never heard of trichowatsis. Sounded like a w*rm... googled. Gross. Not that any STDs aren't gross, but anything that has the word parasite... just ew ew ew.
I was in a private froup a while back and we were yapping about herpes. I mentioned that I'd never had a test because my doctor said that unless you show symptoms it's useless and also they can't differentiate between the various types. Someone yelled at me and called me stupid, said the doc was stupid, and said I should be tested. So I was. Both of them were semi-right and semi-wrong.
Thank god that's all over and I escaped physically unscathed. I can't tell you how happy I am to have a dead sex drive. Life is so much less stressful without feeling horny sans partner or latching on to the wrong ones etc. Not saying it wouldn't revive some if I fell in love, or wotever, but the chances of that are nil with a DSD. Men my age want to know the sex will be sizzling upfront since most have them have done time in sexless marriages and they aren't interested in a long friendship to relationship arc. I understand that.
Funny about your bro.
OK, OK, I'll tell the man to prescribe. I've got him giving me two other substances I don't really need but that are fun to have, so when not get one that isn't fun but that I actually (probably) need.
Though if I detail here the specific actions (ew, don't worry, it's tempting but I won't) you'll see the risk really is low. Or ... so we always want to believe. Dental dams? Ew (again). That's probably good advice.
I know a group of Lesbians who play with one another, and who regularly use dental dams, nitrile gloves and whatever other barriers they can think of, like all the time except with their specific fluid-bonded partners.
They're quite frightened of all the various things they can transmit to one another.
#LoveWins. It can and does in some shape, form, and fashion. And you know, love who want, and sex like you want, and smoke em’ if you got em’ (but don’t smoke because it’s bad for your health).
No one really wants to put the kibosh on love because it’s a little scary to come into and evermore difficult to authentically and without fear or regret or control sustain it. But marriage isn’t a culmination of love, the destination and not the journey. Marriage doesn’t require you to love or guarantee you get it back.
If it means something to its participants, whether as a ritual or a tradition, a religious knitting, the waiting-to-exhale feeling of physical, emotional, or financial security, or ironclad and hopeful assumption one won’t put their bits into another’s bits (if so agreed upon), then go and do and be.
But love, man. Just love. Even when it (sometimes) stinks to love.
And with a divorce rate of nearly half, now wonder the feds are good with it. It helps the economy coming and going.
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