1. My Doctor's Office
My gynecologist, a woman in her fifties with ragged cheeks but a soft voice, flipped through her chart and said, "You've tested positive for gonorrhea."
"That's impossible," I said, because what else was there to say?
She must've read her papers wrong.
Must've needed a refresher course in genitalia.
She gave me a tiny, oh-you-poor-little-thing, smile.
"STDs are more common than you think.
It's nothing to be embarrassed about, and gonorrhea can be cleared up with the right medication.
" She scribbled onto her pad.
"Of course, you don't want to risk that beautiful body of yours.
You should be more careful in the future.
Have you been using condoms?"
But I've been with my boyfriend for a year.
I'm on the pill."
"The pill is pretty effective in preventing pregnancy, but it does nothing to stop the spread of sexually transmitted--"
"You don't get what I'm saying.
I don't sleep around.
I've been with one guy, and we were both virgins when we met, so..."
"I can double check the results, but I'm pretty sure I won't come back with the news you're hoping for." She rested a slender hand on my shoulder, and I resisted the urge to push it away.
"He wouldn't cheat on me."
That smile again.
"I'm sorry, dear."