so i saw my therapist today. it had been since january. that's a long time ago in therapy years. basically this woman helped save me when i was losing my mind about a year ago but after a little kick in the ass i figured i was good. uh, good enough. but a lot of pressure lately had me more fragile than usual so i hit her up a few days ago and it was on. i basically whined about my x girlfriend the whole time because i am a big pussy. the fucked up thing was i thought the session was an hour and i'm looking at the clock the whole time because i know that shit's crucial and i'm just getting warmed up like 35 minutes deep, and then she reminds me that we only have until "quarter till" ..... what the fuck is that? so then i got to cram everything in all fast an shit ... therapists are funny because they are your main homey when they're on the clock but as soon as the time's up - don't let the door hit you on the ass! i had to slip her check (and her pen) under the door, it was time to GO! she gave me some thing on marijuana that basically said it was as hard to quit as smokin cigs and "withdrawl symptoms" and some highlighted shit and i told her i was smokin hella cigs lately and that i was about to go smoke one right then.
k, so then later i got to go to the hospital for an ol' C check up. big shouts to all my cancer homeys (moms, pops, patrick swayze, mark, cy, and my friend with thyroid cancer ..... who may or may not want his name in here about this, i suppose i could call him and find out, i really should call him anyway ..... and peace to all the dead cancer homeys) so i realize "oh shit" they're going to be all up in my junk but i don't have time to take a shower so i do some quick spot cleaning and get the f out. i sing in, ha, i mean sign in, and then go the 2nd floor o the building where the C fam get check ups and shit. i read harper's bazaar or some shit for a minute .... penelope cruz, all the sex things, bad fall spread with iffy models and dumb captions, you know the routine (but you know i love that shit) ...... and then i kick it with my homegirl chastity (who works there) for a sec, i know her from my old days on the 3rd floor and plus she knows my homey mark in the C crew. as we are talking doc Y appears and introduces herself ---- > (sound of record scratching followed by harsh silence). now here you need some background:
i used to see doc X. doc X wasn't even one of the OGs that i saw right off the bat. but he was my bro, i always felt like we were the same age and i could say stuff the off way that i do and he would get it and we could joke and say dumb shit and it was obvious that he didn't want to check my junk out any more than i wanted to pull it out (though, after a hernia operation and this you learn to get way over that shit). it was a good relationship to have with the guy who would have to tell you that your shit came back and you were gonna die. like i said, we were bros. one time for whatever reason he needed to check my prostate and i was hopping around like a frightened squirrel, i just could not hold still long enough for it to actually happen and i think he just put the tip in and gave up.
so when i got the appointment reminder, the name was very "asian" and my ignorance of the language did not allow me to determine if it was a man or woman. i just figured it was one of the random asian dude doctors i had come across in my travels. so when, as i was talking to chastity, doc Y appears and introduces herself, i get a little start. doc Y is a short, young, attractive asian woman. her english is poor. she seems enthusiastic but also a bit nervous. the fact that it will be awkward as she holds my testacle in her hand is without a doubt my first thought.
TO BE CONTINUED