Sintown Chronicles I: Behind Closed Doors (56 page)

“I promise you I'll have this old place fixed up by Christmas. Carl Elliott told me yesterday that he could get a crew started on the repairs next week.” He kneaded the cheeks of her buttocks and pulled them apart. He ran his tongue from the bottom of her vagina to her anus and lovingly kissed it. As his hands worked up over her ribs, he said, “I just wish..."

“Just wish what, Jake?"

“You know. I wish I could make love to you."

She rolled over on her side facing him. He bent forward and sucked her left nipple into his mouth. “You old fart,” she said, caressing his gray hair with one hand and his scrotum with the other, “you are making love to me."

“Dr. McGee, I appreciate you taking the time to see me this morning,” Jan said as she sat in the wooden chair beside the doctor's cluttered desk.

Glancing at the small clock on her bookshelf, Mary Lou McGee smiled and replied, “I have a few minutes before my next appointment."

“As I told you yesterday, I have a male friend who suffers from impotence, and when I say suffers, I mean it. It's not just that he can't have sex in the normal way. He seems to think his problem somehow renders him worthless as a human being. He thinks about it constantly. I don't know anything about impotence other than the obvious. I was hoping you could give me some suggestions as to how I can help him."

“I take it that you would like to have a sexual relationship with this gentleman."

“That's a very personal question,” Jan said locking eyes with the doctor, “which I will answer assuming this conversation is strictly confidential."

“Of course it is."

“I am having a sexual relationship with this gentleman—a very satisfactory sexual relationship from my point of view. For my own sake, I don't care if he ever again has an erection. I am concerned about his self-esteem. Do I need to be more specific."

“No. I get the picture. Let me give you some general information about erectile dysfunction, as we medical types prefer to call it. First of all, we believe it affects millions of men in the United States alone. Adequate statistics are not available to show us the full extent of the problem. Although the possible causes are many, they fall into two categories: organic and psychological."

“You mean it may be caused by a physical problem or a mental illness."

“You are right as far as the physical is concerned and, now that I think of it, a psychological problem that results in erectile dysfunction is a form of mental illness. Is your friend on any type of medication? That can often be the cause."

“Not that I know of."

“What sort of physical ailments does he have?"

“Again, I haven't known him very long, but he doesn't seem to have any physical problems other that impotence."

“What age man is he?"

“He's fifty-seven."

In spite of her professional demeanor, Dr. McGee's eyebrows raised."

“He's twenty years older than me, but since when does age have anything to do with friendship?"

“It doesn't, Jan. It's just that ... well ... I see how men look at you in the diner. You are one red hot number,” Dr. McGee grinned. “It just surprises me that you would go for an older guy. Whoever he is, he's one lucky man."

“It's just a friendship, Dr. McGee. At least it started out that way. I'm not sure what it is now."

“He's still a lucky man. The older a man gets, the more likely he is to suffer erectile dysfunction, but it is not an inevitable consequence of the aging process. There are many effective forms of treatment available. You say you want to help him and I believe you. I'm going to make two suggestions. One is urgent. The other may be of no value at all."

Jan pulled a pen and small notebook from her purse to make notes.

“First, you need to get him to me or another doctor for a full medical checkup. Most doctors are hesitant to ask a patient, especially if he is a new patient, about his sex life. Make sure your friend tells the doctor he has an erectile dysfunction problem."

“And your second suggestion?"

“I assume he brings you to orgasm with his finger or mouth. Do you ever use any sex toys?"

“Are you talking about a dildo?"

“A vibrator or dildo, yes."

“I don't need it."

“He may."

“You mean use it on him?"

“No, I mean urge him to use it on you. It could give him a sense of phallic participation that would help his self-image."

On her notepad Jan wrote “phallic ???” “Doctor, what kind of health problems can cause erectile whatever?"

“Dysfunction,” she laughed. “There are so many I don't think it would serve any purpose to go into them now."

“I've been hearing a lot about this new drug, Viagra. Do you think it might work on my friend?"

“I am not yet on the Viagra bandwagon, Jan. It might work, but it might also cause more problems than it solves. If your friend has no medical problems such as high blood pressure, we could try Viagra but I would prefer to explore other options first."

“What about psychological causes, doctor?"

“Again, there can be any number of events or states of mind that can cause a man to loose his ability to have an erection. Some psychiatrists even think it may be an unconscious means of self-punishment. I personally believe that stress or traumatic life experiences cause far more health problems than is generally recognized by medical science."

Jan smiled thinly. “I'm not certain what a traumatic experience is."

“It is an event that is greatly disturbing, like the unexpected loss of a job or the sudden death of a loved one."

“Oh, my God,” Jan exclaimed, dropping her notebook to the floor.

“Did I just ring a bell?” Dr. McGee asked.

“He really loved his wife. She died many years ago—a heart attack—while they were having sex. He thinks he killed her."

“That, Jan, is a perfect example of a traumatic experience. Please get your friend to see a doctor right away."

As Jan walked through the waiting room, unorganized thoughts were tumbling in her brain. She nodded at the seated Betty Nading, but did not notice the troubled look on the face of Dr. McGee's next patient.

“Have a seat,” Dr. McGee said, gesturing towards the desk-side chair while removing a folder from her file cabinet.

Betty pressed her trembling hands to her knees when she sat down. “Your office assistant said it was important when she called to make the appointment."

The doctor did not answer immediately. For several long seconds she reviewed Betty's chart, then looked up and said, “Betty, this is not going to be a pleasant conversation for either of us. Please listen to all I have to say before you panic."

“Oh, God,” Betty gasped.

“It's not the end of the world,” Dr. McGee said, trying to offer reassurance with her voice and sympathetic smile. “The results of the blood test we made during your insurance examination last week came back yesterday. There's a problem."

I'm dying, Betty thought.

“We need to do another test to confirm it, and the second test may show that we have no cause for alarm."

Get on with it, Betty pleaded internally.

“There is a chance, a strong chance, that you may have the HIV virus."

Betty burst into tears and Dr. McGee pushed a box of tissues towards her.

“North Carolina law is very specific when it comes to these tests. It requires me to discuss the situation with you in detail. Please try to pay attention. There is hope in what I have to say."

Betty nodded while blotting the tears from her cheeks.

“HIV stands for Human Immunodeficiency Virus. In a healthy body, the immune system produces white blood cells and antibodies, which attack, and in most cases, control viruses and bacteria that enter the body and cause disease. When HIV enters the body, it destroys the immune system over a period of years causing Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome, or AIDS as we now call it. It is not HIV or AIDS that kills. It is always some other disease that the body can no longer fight that causes fatal illness. Do you understand what I have said so far, Betty?"

Betty nodded affirmatively and said, “I'm going to die."

“That is not what I said, Betty. Now tell me what I really said."

The effort to speak temporarily stemmed the flow of tears. “I've got HIV which destroys the body's immune system resulting in AIDS. In time, my body will no longer be able to fight disease."

“That is almost correct. I did not say you have HIV. I said the blood test we took last week shows you may have the virus. HIV usually shows up in the blood from three to six months after the body has come into contact with the virus. The virus, we think, passes from one person to another largely through sexual contact—anal or vaginal intercourse. Body fluids getting into open wounds, plasma transfusions or hypodermic needle sharing may also pass the virus from one person to another. Think back, Betty. In the last three to six months, have you engaged in sexual intercourse with anyone whose health you are not certain of?"

Betty immediately thought of Max Holder, the anal sex and the resulting anal bleeding. She nodded affirmatively in answer to the question.

“There are two tests involved in checking for HIV. One is the ELISA test. It catches most instances of HIV presence in the blood, but in a small number of cases, something other than HIV can cause a positive reading. The ELISA test is the one the lab ran on your blood sample last week, and it came back positive. Now we need to move on to the Western Blot test. This test is more involved and more expensive but it is highly accurate. I never assume a patient is HIV positive until I receive the results of a Western Blot test."

“So I may not have AIDS after all?"

“Right, and let's hope that is the way it turns out. But, Betty, the ELISA test yields a false positive in only a small number of cases."

Betty blew her nose so violently the tissue blew apart. Both ladies laughed. With the tension broken, Betty asked, “What if I do have AIDS?"

“North Carolina law requires that all of your sexual partners must be notified."

“I have to tell Bo?"

“Of course you do, honey."

What about Rita and Jan? Betty thought.

“HIV is often a slow acting virus,” Dr. McGee continued. “You may live a lifetime without contracting a full blown case of AIDS. Of course, from this point forward, you need to practice safe sex, and there is more involved than just using a condom.” The doctor handed Betty a small pamphlet. “I want you to memorize the contents of this little booklet,” she said.

Betty crammed the pamphlet into her pocket. “What about treatment?"

“Surely you know research is in progress all over the world. Breakthroughs occur almost daily. There are drugs that seem to delay the destructive action of HIV on the immune system, even after AIDS has developed. But Betty, so far there is no cure."

There is no cure. There is no cure. There is no cure. There is no cure. There is no cure. There is no cure. There is no cure. There is no cure. Betty could not drive the words from her brain, even during fitful sleep.

Big Willie turned into the Dollar Building parking lot too fast. He hit the brake pedal and the rear end of his car skidded before coming to a stop. “Damn,” he said, wiping imaginary sweat from his brow. He eased his car into a parking space and headed for the clinic. I haven't been on time to pick Louise up from her therapy treatments yet, he scolded himself. Why in the hell don't I start five minutes earlier?

He spotted Louise at the far end of the waiting room and hurried to her. “Late again, honey. I'm sorry,” he said reaching for the wheelchair brake release.

“Wait a minute, Willie,” she said.

He looked up and saw Dr. McGee approaching with a big smile on her face. “I think our patient has something she wants to show you, Mr. Donaldson,” she said, positioning an aluminum walker in front of Louise.

Giggling like a child, Louise bent forward, lifted her left leg with one hand, pulled the footrest upright, and placed her foot firmly on the floor. She repeated the process for her right leg. She reached out and grasped the walker and, to Big Willie's amazement, pulled herself erect. She took a deep breath, pushed the walker forward a few inches, and swung her hips forward. Her legs followed. She did it again, and again, and again and again until after some five minutes she reached the swinging glass doors of the clinic. She called out over her shoulder, “Taxi!"

The big man bawled tears of infinite joy.

The unbidden thought hit Jan with such sudden force that she dropped the coffeepot, shattering glass over the floor and scalding her left leg. Customers rushed to her aid. Jake was the first to reach her, followed closely by Dottie Frank who hovered like a mother hen.

“I'm so sorry, Dottie,” Jan whimpered, unable to hold back the tears of pain.

Dottie drenched a towel in cold water and applied it gently to the already reddening flesh. “Coffee pots I can replace,” she said, “but good waitresses are hard to find. That burn looks bad. I've got to get you to the clinic."

“I'll do it,” Jake said, lifting her with one arm under her thighs and the other under her back. “You call ahead,” he instructed Mrs. Frank.

“I feel like such a fool,” Jan said through clenched teeth, and she thought, How can this old man carry me? “I can walk,” she protested.

“Since you didn't follow my advice about the implants, you're still light as a feather,” he huffed.

“Jake, you're going to hurt your back. Please put me down."

Reluctantly, but also gratefully, Jake gently lowered her feet to the sidewalk, being careful to support her left side. “Okay, Hop-a-long, but take it easy. Lean on me."

“Wow,” she said, trying to smile. “It really hurts."

Because of Dottie's telephone call, Dr. McGee and a nurse met them at the entrance to the Dollar Building and eased Jan into a wheelchair.

“I know it is painful,” Dr. McGee said in the examination room, “but it's not as bad as it feels. You should stay off your feet as much as possible for the rest of the week and wear sandals or slippers without socks or hose. The coffee seared your ankle pretty good."