Dr. Dana Evans was finishing her clinical appointments when the receptionist called saying a patient had come in with an urgent matter. It was Steve Wright. He was the patient of a white male colleague of hers and demanded to see that doctor only. He was told Dr. Evans was the only doctor on duty unless he wanted to wait until Monday. He had reluctantly agreed to Dana’s dismay.
“Okay . . . send him in” she said calmly with a sigh.
Steve was a slightly burly man, in his 50s with a buzz cut and clean shave. Yet, he wore a polo and khakis. But now he was in a backless gown with his fat ass hanging out. He seemed disgruntled already and was uneasy.
“What brings you to the infectious organism clinic today, Mr. Wright?”
“Don’t you know? Aren’t you a doctor?” He questioned
“Yes, Mr Wright. I am actually in the top 5 doctors in my field of study, but I still need to know what brings you in here today.” (I don’t read minds -she thought).
“I think I have an STD . . .in my balls.”
It took all of Dana’s strength not to burst out laughing at the way Steve stated this. Dana had empathy for good people in similar situations and was very professional, but Steve was a problem patient. He always talked down to women, especially black women like herself, and doubted their competency. She kept it to herself, but she did not care for Steve. Even his own doctor wasn’t a fan. But the CEO was a “family friend” and they could not refuse his care.
“Did you have an exposure or encounter recently?” Dana continued.
“Yeah . . Look, I’ll just say she was a dirty whore”
“I don’t need to know that” Dana cut him off.
“All I know is my balls are enlarged and on fire. I’m not waiting 6 hours for the emergency room”
“Let’s take a look” she said as she slapped her gloves on (a little to annoy Steve)
“Scoot Forward and put your legs in the stirrups . . . .Lift your penis” (this wasn’t heavy lifting).
“Please cough”
“Hmm . . .” Dana let out a sound upon her examination of Steve’s testes
“What?” He asked nervously.
There was a small discreet puncture mark in the scrotum. It looked like after someone gives a shot or draws blood.
“How long ago was this encounter?”
“I think about a week”
“Come back in 6 weeks. It’s too early for me to test anything. I’ll write a prescription for anti-itch cream.” She didn’t mention the puncture.
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Dana had a suspicion. She waited until Steve had collected his things, and grumbled out of the office to make a followup appointment. She waited until he left the building. As soon as she had a break, she walked briskly to her office, closed the door. She called her college friend Deirdre (or Dee).
“Hey Dee. I hate to call with a nerd question, but you know me.” She attempted to joke
“Oh, no problem Dana. I would like to actually sit down and get a drink together sometime or even coffee if I’m up earlier. But go ahead . . . geek out.”
Dana’s tone became serious and quiet after a pause “Are you still involved with the Mandolin Parasite research?”
Waiting for the Piano to Fall 