It was a wise man who said that acceptance is the key to a happy life. Sam agreed totally. He had come to accept that Gail had given him a sexually transmitted disease and he was content. Once he got over the initial shock, it didn’t seem so terrible. It wasn’t as of he had cancer. Full recover was a given with most forms of STD’s. The antibiotics the doctor had prescribed would make him good as new in fourteen days. In the meantime all he had to do was avoid sex.
He didn’t blame Gail, either. In all likelihood she didn’t know she was infected. Of course, once the STD was confirmed the health department would get involved and insist she be checked and treated. It would probably be best to send her an email as soon as the test results were out so she could be prepared. It seemed like the decent thing to do.
While he waited for the results, he continued to date but limited his contact to hugs and kisses. Actually there were few kisses. Even after he bought them lunch, the ladies he dated only showed their appreciation with a hug. One of them shook hands. It was a bit disappointing.
Still he was determined to make it clear that sex was out of the question should the occasion arise. He would tell them it was because he was a moral man. That would make him seem nicer, less like a dawg. Unfortunately, the occasion never arose. None of the ladies he dated was interested in sex.
Since he was curious about the particular form of STD he had contacted he spent a lot of time on google researching sexually transmitted diseases. There was lots of information. Causes, diagnosis, treatment—everything was explained in excruciating detail. Gruesome pictures of a penis in various stages of disfigurement were included. Many were frighteningly ugly. He was just glad his problem had been diagnosed early so he wouldn’t have such dreadful outcome. He felt extremely protective of his penis.
The doctor phoned on day seven. Sam expecting the worst but was glad he would finally know. He was prepared. The antibiotics had already shrunk the spot on his penis and the color had changed. It was now a slight pink instead of brilliant red. No matter what the diagnosis he was well on his way to a cure.
“So the tests are back, huh?” he said. “Tell me. What do I have?”
“The tests were negative.”
“What?”
“The tests were negative. You don’t have STD.”
Sam was stunned. This was totally unforeseen. “What do I have?”
“I’m pretty sure it is psoriases.”
“Psoriases?”
“Yes.”
“What’s that?”
“A skin disease. It’s pretty common but doesn’t show up on the penis very often.”
“What causes it?”
“Stress plays a part. In your case my guess is it was aggravated by sexual friction.”
Sam remembered how passionate Gail had been. There had been a lot of sexual friction.
“Is it contagious?”
“Not a bit.”
Sam gripped the phone tightly. There was a lot to comprehend. He had been so sure it was STD. His relief was huge.
“So I am okay?”
“Absolutely.”
“No possibility of infecting anyone?
“Not a chance.” The doctor said.
“Then it is okay to have sex again?”
“Of course.”
Sam heaved a huge sigh of relief. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind he was the luckiest man alive. What could have turned out to be a total disaster had turned out to be only a trivial incident.
It was almost as if God approved of him getting laid.
