Thursday, March 27, 2008

Dirty Bruises

So I have a friend who tells me she enjoys a little nip now and then. Not like, a-little-swig-from-a-bottle-of-Smirnoff nip, but an "ooh, you bit me, how saucy!" type nip. Actually, more like, a "please bite me, I really like it" nip. After enjoying a little weekend romp in which some lust-more-than-love-biting may or may not have taken place, our friend had a visit to the doctor for her regular checkup and her annual EKG, which required her to get semi-naked, which she did, without thinking about some of the more interesting, purply-blue bruises she might have, with and without teethmarks, as a souvenir of the weekend's festivities. Here's how it went down. Try not to laugh as much as I did:

The nurse is somewhat quiet as she attaches electrodes to my friend's chest, except there is some heavy sighing and worried lip biting. My friend thought maybe the nurse was just having a hard time connecting all the electrical wires. Then, the nurse says abruptly, "Will you excuse me for a minute?!" My friend doesn't think anything of it and lies there lazily staring at the fluorescent light tube in the ceiling and the various birth control posters on the wall, waiting for the nurse to come back, trying to pretend she isn't in the least bit uncomfortable to be wearing a paper dress.

The nurse arrives back with the doctor in tow, and in a low voice, starts pointing out some of the naughty bruises. The doctor takes my friend's hand, and she stares down intently and determinedly into her face.

"Now, I'm concerned about some of these bruises," the doctor said. "Are you...are you...self-harming?"

My friend was mortified. She hadn't even thought about what her little habit might look like to an outsider. And she was also kind of appalled that she seemed like the type of person that both the nurse and the doctor thought MIGHT self-harm. But what was she supposed to say?! "No, no, I just like it when my lovers bite me?" Probably that's what she should have said, but somehow, she couldn't bring herself to disclose this to her doctor. I mean, the doctor has already seen her vagina on a pretty regular basis, so you'd think she'd be okay with discussing a little bruising, but no. She just couldn't do it.

"Um...NO...I...um, no, no self-harming," my friend said lamely, staring at the doctor with eyes that were simply begging the doctor not to ask the next natural question. Please, please, just let it go.

"So...someone else did this to you?" the doctor asked, even more concerned.

My friend was now beet red AND black and blue. "Yes," she mumbled.

She and the doctor stared at each other for another minute or so. No words passed, but woman-to-woman, the doctor got the idea.

"And," she said, trying to think of what to say next, "...you...WANTED them to?"

"Yes," said my friend, feeling a wild desire to laugh and cover her face with her paper dress at the same time.

"OKAAAAAY, then!" said the doctor cheerfully. "I guess we should think about getting you some iron if you're bruising that easily! Carry on, nurse!"

A little lesson for all of us out there. If you're into any kind of nastiness that could be disfiguring, best be taking your supplements.

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