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When the doctor turned on the machine my throat swelled up. I couldn’t breathe. Then I felt the scraping. My stomach bucked in cramps as bad as any period I can remember. The entire time I kept my jaw clenched boards and listened to my grandfather’s ukulele. I made up a song about Doctor Luden. The words went like this: Dr. Luden wears green hospital pants/But he ain’t wearing any underpants. Before long, I was sipping grape juice from a paper boards cup as I stepped into my jeans. The boards worst part is I can’t have sex for a few weeks and I love having sex with Raj, especially those final moments before he loses it and he can’t stop shouting, “I’m riding you, baby, I’m riding you!” It’s a total rush, like I’m controlling his words through his dick. But I cannot, I will not, think about his dick. Not for a few weeks, but whenever you try and not think about something it’s always worse.
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