“Nathan?”
“Yep!” I said as I raised my hand.
“Hi! Right this way!” she said through the same friendly, welcoming smile almost every healthcare professional gives upon greeting a patient.
As we made it into her office, she showed me which chair to sit in before taking a seat in her own.
“This appointment will be longer than the average, since it's our first meeting. All others from here on out shouldn't be more than fifteen minutes or so, unless I see a need for more. Which all depends on you. Want to switch a med, up a dose, lower a dose, and things of the like. I'm sure you know all of this already, as I see that you're not new here, just a new patient of mine. So, what made you want to switch?”
“Long story short, he's a commission based guy. Or that's how he comes across to me, and that's not what I need. Inevitably, we found something that worked, but honestly, I just couldn't take his attitude towards it all. I'm a person, my concerns are genuine; I'm not a dollar sign.”
“What makes you feel that way?”
“Whatever med was on TV, that's what he was prescribing. No matter the issue I had with any of them, he always wanted me to keep taking them, etc., and though I'm probably not going to be a patient of yours long, I need someone who's concerned more for my well-being, than how big of a check they can make for themselves.”
“Well, I can assure that he isn't like that, but since you feel that way, I can understand the desire to change it up. So you know, I'm not like that, so don't worry. Why do you think that you won't be a patient of mine for long?”
“Because I've done all that I've needed to. As long as you can help me transition off of them smoothly, this shouldn't take any longer than it takes to do so. Then a few check up appointments from there to make sure I don't need to get back on one. If all is well, then I'd no longer need a med doc.”
“I see. I'm glad to hear that we've been able to help you, and hope that I can help you top off your treatment plan. As you may know, I'm going to have to ask you some basic questions to put on file before we begin, are you okay with that?
“Sure.”
“Great. Then let's begin.”
At first, it all felt so routine. The same check list of questions that feel like if anyone answered “yes” to half of them, they'd call for transport to the loony-bin. Once those were all done, she moved on to questions she had devised upon reading my file and notes. Asking me questions about memories and experiences from my past, and that's where things took a twist.
Depending on the question, and the answer I gave her, she'd respond with something like “You might have flown under the radar there because of how attractive you are.” or, “Because you're so attractive, they might not have picked up on how distressed you were.” After a few times of that, I became suspicious. It was rather odd, as that had never happened to me before: someone using their perception of my physical appearance as a reason as to why my behavior was never called to question. Although interesting, I was beginning to get frustrated.
“So, now that we've plowed through that, how is your libido?”
“Excuse me?”
“Earlier, you mentioned that the meds that worked, 'destroyed' your libido, and that since then, you've been weening off of them. Has your libido been returning?”
“To an extent, maybe? I mean, it's not raging like puberty, but it's there. Haven't really tested it, or had the ability to, to be quite honest.”
“Okay. We'll check back up on that next visit, if that's ok with you?”
“Yeah. That's fine.”
The session continued. She made a few more remarks about me being “attractive”, and as the session came to a close, she brought up my libido one more time.
“You should try and get yourself out there. Go to a bar or a club, and see if your body responds appropriately to any possible stimulation. It'll help give insight into how your body is responding to the lower dose that you're on, or if it had anything to do with the medication to begin with.”
I told her that I'd think about it, and she proceeded to encourage me. Telling me that sexuality is a beautiful part of life, and that it's a necessity of being healthy both physically and mentally. I agreed with her on that, but found it odd that she seemed hung up on it. Trying not to pay it much mind, I made my way to the door, and told her that I'd make an appointment a month out, and I'd see her then.
As I left, my mind raced. Feeling like I was being hit on by my med doc was weird. There's something so non-sexual about it all, that it would never cross my mind naturally. Thinking back on it while I was at the gym, she was attractive. I remembered that she seemed to be stacked under her ruffled blouse, and how her outfit looked good on her. Being a man, I figured that even if she was like the other guy, at least she was sexy. If she dressed just as nice each time we met, there would be generous eye candy. Which wouldn't be a bad thing.
A month had passed, and it was time for our next visit. I waited in line like every time before. Once again, peering around at all the sad faces, reminding me of how far I had come, when I heard my name.
“Nathan. You can slide right in! I'll let them know you're here.”
I looked towards the window, and the ladies smiled and waved me along. This was probably the shortest amount of time I had ever spent in the waiting room. It was nice. Almost like I was one of few people in a “VIP” program. Leaving the line, I walked right through the door way behind her, and entered the room.
She wore a skin-tight, navy blue dress, with one of those useless belts wrapped around her mid section, as if she needed more definition of her voluminous chest. This time, I caught a peek of her ass. The definition was unbelievable. I could see her bra straps meet in the back, but there were no visible signs of panties, or anything below the waist. My mind raced, “Is there, or is there not any panties under that dress?” I thought to myself. Women are sneaky that way. I had heard of the term “VPL” before, and her lack of a visible panty line caused a delectable debate in my mind.
“So, did you do as I asked?”
“About?”
“Going out?”
“Uh, yes. Yes I did. But it was not a success.”
“How come?”
“Maybe there weren't enough women? Nothing seemed enticing.”
“Where did you go?”
“A local bar.”
“Hm. Well, maybe I should have suggested a club only. Bars are really hit or miss, but a dance club on a Friday and Saturday night should be a sure thing.”
“Not a fan of them.”
“Really? You'd be a hit! You should totally rethink that.”
“Yeah? How so?”
“You're fit, and very attractive. Here's what you should do. Pick up some fitted dress pants, a nice fitted button up, and go stand by the bar. Get yourself a drink, and face the dance floor. Maybe sway in place a little, with a smile. Look as though you want to get on that dance floor, but are obviously alone. Either a woman in the same position will approach you, or find a woman who appears to be by herself, and ask her if she'd like to dance. I guarantee that as long as you don't have the two biggest left feet in the place, you'll pick-up.”
“Wow! That's quite a game plan. Have you been giving this some thought?”
“Well, no. I guess in a way, that's what I do when I'm in the mood.” she said, a little caught off guard.
“Okay. So, where do you go then? I mean, if you have a place that you go to more than others, it might be because it's a better club to go to, than one I may find at random. I wouldn't even know where to go.”
“Hm. Maybe I'll tell you at some point. For now, just pick somewhere and go. Maybe it'll work out, maybe not. Maybe I'll see you there, maybe not.”
There was a minute of thick silence before she got back to business.
“Have you tested it out in any other fashion?”
“Tested what?”
“Your libido.”
“Nope.”
“Okay. Then how have you felt since our first meeting?”
“Good. I feel as though lowering the dose is a good thing. Almost like I'm beginning to wake up. Which is nice.”
“You do seem a bit perkier this time. More comfortable for sure, but there's something a little different.”
“I agree. It's getting there.” I asked her, as she seemed lost in thought.
“What's getting there?” she asked with a quick flick of her eyes down, then up, snapping back from thought.
“Like my personality is rushing back in, and filling up again.”
There was a look on her face as if she was lost almost. Then she regained composure, and continued on.
“That's excellent! So, we'll continue this next time, seeing as our time is almost up. No changes need to be made now, so we'll see how things are going next time. Please, try the dance club idea. It'll either provide you with insight as to whether or not your libido is returning, or at the very least, provide you with a story to tell. So much goes on there, it can be rather comical.”
“Fair enough.”
Soon, I was on my way. I'm sure she had caught me peeking at her chest at least once. For our second appointment, things seemed to be getting ramped up rather quickly. The room was much thicker this time. She may have picked up on my wandering eyes, which could have provoked those moments of her seeming lost. Feeling like maybe I had ruffled her feathers by asking where she went, and almost asking her if she wanted to help me out. Not that it seemed to bother her, nor did it bother me. I actually enjoyed this dynamic, which had me thinking, “Should I switch my primary to a woman as well? They do physicals.” I laughed to myself, knowing how foolish it was. I knew this was an odd occurrence, and quickly got my head grounded. Once I got to the gym, it was all business as usual. Cardio, upper body, swimming pool, then the hot tub.
Time passed slowly, as excitement towards my next appointment clung to the days leading up to it. I walked in, and got in line. Again, there was no waiting. She came out and called me in before I even got to the window. I knew she was enjoying our visits as much as I was, because she wore another tight dress. This one was white. Instead of a belt, she wore what looked like a thin black robe, obviously more geared towards a casual setting than lounging. As I entered the room and closed the door, she took off the robe.