Is There A Doctor In The House?

As much as I wanted to watch the roofing crew at work, I was getting concerned about the swelling and itching in my chest. Allergy? Some weird virus? Cancer? It's easy to psych yourself out over something like that, especially when all this other shit was happening.

I got in the pickup, turned around and was halfway down the driveway when I realized I hadn't the feintest idea where I was going. I didn't have a local doctor yet and it was close to a hundred miles to the office where I had gone the few times I needed to see a doctor. I scratched my head for a few minutes, scratched my chest as well, and realized that my best bet was to ask Vonda if she knew a local doctor she could recommend.

I gave old Darth a cheery wave as I passed and rang the doorbell to no avail. Eventually I realized she would probably be in her studio working, so I went around back and heard the sound of a grinder being used. No sense knocking on the door - she wouldn't be able to hear the trump of doom with the grinder running. One of those wrought iron gates she was fabricating hung from the overhead hoist. I watched as my new friend, wearing her welding leathers and a face shield, as she sent showers of sparks flying as she smoothed out a weld.

"Knock-knock" I said loudly, causing her to jump as if I had goosed her.

"Jesus H Christ on a pogo stick! Don't do that!"

"Sorry. Nothing short of a sonic boom could compete with that grinder."

"She stripped off her facemask and hearing protectors, shaking out her damp hair as she did so. I was right - she was very sexy in those leathers.

"I need some advice," I responded.

"Really? More ghostly apparitions, perhaps?"

"Actually, yes, but that's not what I came to ask. I need to find a local doctor and hope you can point me in the right direction."

"I hope it's nothing serious."

"I do to, but that's why I need to talk to a doctor."

"The clinic I use is still accepting new patients. I just hope they take your insurance plan. Sometimes I get sicker of all the bullshit for insurance than with whatever I need to see the doctor about."

"Don't we all."

"I'll give them a call for you."

"Thanks."

So she went over to the desk at the far end of her studio and pushed buttons on the phone. How quaint - she still had a land line. After a little bit of back-and forth she handed the phone to me and let me talk.

Yes they were taking new patients. Yes they could fit me in at 11:00. Come in half an hour early to fill out endless forms in the hope I didn't expire before the doctor could see me.

"Thanks," I said as I hung up. "And thanks to you, too, Vonda."

"Glad to help a neighbor. So - you seen any more of Casper?"

"Casper is a friendly ghost. My ghost is a kleptomaniac."

"This is getting interesting. Tell me more."

"My spirit came through a locked door, stole all the brand new men's underwear out of my drawer and left an entirely new load of panties. Polka-dots this time. The spirit has a peculiar sense of fashion."

"Do I need to start singing Itsy-bitsy Teeny-weenie Yellow Polka-dot Bikini?"

"Oddly enough, this time he - or maybe I should say she - left the matching bras as well."

"Now I know you're pulling my leg!"

"Without commenting on how pleasant that might be, I am speaking the unvarnished truth. And I know it makes me sound like a nutcase."

"Are you sure you don't need a psychiatric doctor instead of an MD?"

"A question I've started asking myself. If you need proof, you are cordially invited to peruse what now seems to be my lingerie drawer."

"Challenge accepted!"

She started stripping off her leathers, something I was happy to appreciate. Hey! A striptease is a striptease…

 

"Nice place you got here!"

"It's been home for almost ten years. For a guy who has bought almost twenty houses, I live the life of a rover."

"What's this?" she asked, picking up the plastic bag of panties I had left by the door."

"My spirit's first contribution. I was going to take them to a charity shop sometime or other."

"Your spirit has quality taste. These are high-end merchandise."

"Not something I have any expertise in. I'd offer them to you but I doubt they'd fit."

"You got that right. I would have outgrown these by the time I was ten. Queen size does not necessarily mean fat."

"I'm not going to comment. Check out the top left drawer of the dresser."

"Hmmm I think your spirit must necessarily have been female - or maybe gay - before it discorporated. If you ever meet her send her over to my house, will you?"

"Gladly! Just because I'm small and wiry doesn't mean I have any desire to change sex."

"That would certainly disappoint me. You mentioned bras?"

"So I did. Try the right drawer."

"Nice. They fit?"

"I haven't tried but the size is right if I actually needed one."

"I'm really glad you bought this place. I love a mystery and I love ghost stories. I think having you as a neighbor is going to be a very good thing."

"I certainly hope so."

The Doctor

So I knew where I was going - in the short term, anyway. It's about ten miles into town and the road is not of the best. I drive a big pickup, something needed for the work I do, but it has a rather rough ride to handle the loads I carry. It was hard to scratch and keep the thing pointed straight ahead.

Then my ass started to itch.

Wiggling in my seat didn't help, the truck sort of shimmied if I tried so I had to put up with it. Whatever I had gotten into was starting to spread. Oh joy!

The people at the clinic were very nice, the paperwork almost painless. In my early thirties I hadn't seen the doctor all that much and my active lifestyle kept me healthy and strong for my size so I didn't have much history to relate. I did feel rather foolish when asked for my symptoms. Itchy chest sounds downright trivial when you put it on paper, but by this time it was getting distinctly annoying.

Since I was a new patient, I drew Dr Christa Tanner as my GP. I'd never had a female doctor before, but I wasn't worried about it. A doctor is a doctor even if she might turn out to be nice to look at.

So I'm a bit of a sexist. Live with it.

Ten minutes of playing spider solitaire on the phone and I was ushered into your typical medical cubicle. There seems to be a universal ceremony needed to propitiate the Gods of Medicine before you can gain the attention of one of their disciples. I was weighed and measured and had to recite the catechism of my medical history. Today's results were:

130 pounds

5'7"

Chest 36

Waist 33

That last one was surprising, I had always had a 34 inch waist. I guess there was a reason my shorts felt a bit loose.

Two minutes later there was a knock on the door and the doctor came in and yes, she was worth looking at. She also had rings on her fingers that told me she was married. Funny how I always check that out when I meet a woman.

So I sheepishly told her about my itchy, swollen chest and she asked me to take off my shirt. I will not make any sexist remarks about that.

For a wonder her stethoscope hadn't been refrigerated and her hands were warm. She palpated my chest and when her fingers brushed my nipple it was electric. I jumped.

"Sensitive, are they?" she asked, trying to suppress a grin.

"Yeah, just a bit."

"And how long has this been happening?"

"Just a couple of days."

"Really? If I didn't know better I'd say your chest was perfectly normal - for a pre-teen girl just starting to develop."

"Jesus Doc, just what I wanted to hear!"

"Sounds weird, doesn't it? Relax, it's called gynecomastia and usually isn't harmful. We need to do some blood tests and you need to get a mammogram."

"What?"

"Seriously, a mammogram. While gynecomastia is seldom serious I want to rule out nasties like breast cancer or kidney and liver disease. Almost certainly overkill, but it can't hurt to be sure. Are you a pot smoker. Please be honest, I need to know."

"Not for years. Why?"

"Heavy pot use can cause breast growth."

"You learn something new every day."

"I hope so. One other question: any pain in your testicles? Tumors down there can be a cause."

"Nothing I've noticed."

"Good. The tech will take a blood sample and the receptionist will make an appointment for the mammogram. I'll see you again in a couple of days to go over the results. Meanwhile, I'll prescribe some cream to help with the itching."

"I'd really appreciate that."

 

The radiologist couldn't fit me in any sooner than Friday at 10:30 but the doctor had an opening at 10:00 on Thursday.

I filled the prescription and found a men's room where I spread the white gunk all over my chest. Within a few seconds the itching started to ease - bliss! I was tempted to look at my chest in the mirror but didn't want to get caught in a public restroom looking at my swollen chest. I swear my pecs had grown since I got up this morning.

Weird.

I got home to find a huge dumpster in front of the place and giant tarps all over the lawn near the house. Up above mountain goats swinging crowbars and other implements of destruction were creating a black waterfall of old roofing that showered the tarps on the ground. Better them than me, I don't like heights. I've done roofing on a ranch house, but anything taller and I call in the professionals.

Parking the pickup well away from the chaos I waved at the crew and fixed myself a sandwich and some soup for lunch. I rinsed off the dishes and took the time to fill the slow cooker for dinner. A couple of pork chops from the freezer, some onion and a whole bunch of celery coarsely diced, white wine and chicken broth, set on high and let it cook all afternoon.

I'd been putting it off but had to look; I swear the swelling had increased since this morning, but at least the cream had stopped the itching. Worked on my ass, too.

While the mountain goats played above I started in on sorting what was in the house. Since I came in by the back door into the kitchen I started there. The kitchen had been modernized fairly recently, so most of what was there was perfectly fine. At least the family had cleaned out all the foodstuffs before they went around the world, so I didn't have rats or mice or ants to cope with.

I gave the refrigerator and stove a wipe-down and turned them on - working. A cup of water in the microwave proved it was heating just fine.

Since the place had been left just as it was before the family left I was able to find cleaning supplies in a broom closet. I wasn't planning on any major construction that would raise dust inside, so I emptied the cupboards, wiped down the dust and washed the dishes. I was going to be able to throw quite a party with the service for sixteen in a typical blue china pattern, but I'd have to do more research to find out what it was called. There was real silver silverware, too, but I left it tarnished. With silver you need to polish it just before you use or it just tarnishes again.

The everyday dishes were Corningware and the counters were loaded with blenders, juicers and other fancy machinery that went far beyond my level of skill. The lower cupboards had roasters and cookie sheets and stainless steel pots and pans in profusion. Almost made me wish I were married with a passel of children to put all the stuff to good use.

Thinking about food, I realized I was hungry again. I returned to the RV and made a sandwich and before I knew it I had popped a can of soup into the microwave. By 3:00 I had finished my second lunch and returned to my duties as a scullery maid. I even found a frilly apron to protect my clothes so I suppose I was living the part.

Somewhere along the line I realized I was hearing the thump-thump-thump of a nail gun, so I went outside and watched for a while as the mountain goats covered the bare joists with a new layer of plywood. I had specified real plywood and not that chipboard crap at extra cost; I wanted the roof to last for a good long time. I was so involved in watching them work I didn't hear Vonda come up behind me."

"Every old house needs a maid. You applying for the job?"

"Not only did I apply, I got the job as chief scullery maid and bottle washer. I've been getting the kitchen in shape."

"Do tell."

"I just told you. Come on in and see."

She had obviously showered and changed from her working clothes and was once again in shorts and low cut top. Trying my best to be a gentleman, we went in and examined the piles of dishes and such.

"They must have entertained an army. Why, I believe that's a Spode Blue Italian pattern. If it's antebellum it's valuable but if they got it on Amazon it's stuff they still make. You need to talk to an antique dealer."

"I surely do, but one thing at a time."

"Need help with the dishes before the mistress returns?"

"You volunteering?"

"Sure. Easier than horsing around those big gates."

"There's half a dozen aprons in the closet over there."

"Goody, any maid outfits?"

"Haven't found any. I wonder if they had servants when they lived in the place?"

"Rumor says they didn't. Small town, it would be in the gossip chain if they did."

"I wonder how long it will take for me to be a link in that chain?"

"Duly forged in the crucible of curiosity already. You saw Christa this afternoon so by tomorrow everybody who's anybody will be speculating on what dread disease you are carrying."

"Rockin' pneumonia and the boogie-woogie flu?"

"Huey Smith, Johnny Rivers or Deep Purple?"

"Nothing like the original."

"Can I ask or is it none of my business?"

"Medical or musical?"

"Medical, you clown."

"It's embarrassing but you can ask."

"So what dread disease are you carrying?"

"The doctor tells me I have a perfectly normal chest for a pre-teen girl about to start developing."

The woman had a hearty laugh with no inhibitions. She had just about wound down when the crew chief came to the back door and shouted "Hey Glen, we're done for the day. All covered up and we should finish by tomorrow. Do I get to know what's so funny?"

"Not a chance in the world, you old dog. You'd steal the joke and then I couldn't use it any longer."

"Be like that, then. See you tomorrow, funny man."

When he was out of earshot Vonda said "I suppose if you're about to start growing boobs it would make you a funny man."

"Damn right. I'll find out on Thursday when the doc get the blood test results."

"Or maybe Wednesday."

"She said Thursday."

"We'll see. Lets finish up and we can call it a day."

"Good idea. Can I invite you for dinner in return for last night?"

"You certainly can, but how are you going to cook."

"The crockpot is doing the job for me. I'll throw on some rice, take a quick shower and we can eat."

"My, but you're efficient."

 

We went over to the RV where Vonda settled into the recliner while I closed the bedroom door and took a quick shower. The water felt good as it cascaded over my nipples but I had a guest waiting and didn't play around. I'd swear my swelling was still increasing, but no time to worry about that now.

I felt like a damn fool putting on yet another pair of panties (this time green polka-dots) but needs must. I went with shorts and a golf shirt to be a little more formal and to hide those damn panties.

Big mistake! The knitted fabric just about set off fireworks with my nipples. What the hell was I going to do?

Oh shit - I knew what I needed to do. My sex-crazed ghost had left me all those camisoles. Could this sudden expansion in my dimensions be part of the supernatural plans the spirit had in mind for me?

Was I going crazy to even think of shit like that?

I put on the camisole. It helped.

Emerging clean and brushed, I started to make a salad.

"Wait a minute, I said. "You said you were Jewish. I have pork chops for dinner."

"Ethnically Jewish but not religiously. Haven't been in a synagogue for years and certainly not kosher."

"Whew. I was worried I had just made a big goof."

"Would it be crass of me to point out that no matter how goofy you are it would be a stretch to call you a big goof?"

"No more than if I were to point out that there is a certain largeness to you."

"How gallant! Usually men are tongue tied trying to tell me they like big boobs on a woman."

"They are rather obvious."

"If you got 'em, flaunt 'em. Which reminds me - what's with the pre-pubescent girl bit?"

"I imagine you've noticed I've been scratching my chest but were too polite to comment?"

"Well, now that you mention it…"

"I just figured I had gotten into something I'm allergic to in the place, but this morning it was enough worse I wanted to see a doctor. I don't know if she was being a smart-ass about the pre-pubescent girl or what, but when she brushed my nipple I about took off for the moon."

"Christa isn't all that much a smart ass. We've known each other since third grade. I remember back when I was starting to develop, playing with my nipples was, well let's just say it was enlightening."

"Hey - I didn't mean to get all that personal."

"Darn. I'll be upfront about it, I wouldn't be all that adverse to getting a little more personal."

"Let's let it develop naturally, OK?"

"Like your pre-pubescent boobs?"

"I may be a nutcase, but you're one sick puppy!"

"Aoooooo…" she bayed.

 

We spent a very pleasant evening together. She was appreciative of the meal. from which there were no leftovers. I had an appetite that was almost shocking, putting more on my plate than Vonda and eating it all.

She washed, I dried and put away. We checked my DVD collection (no streaming available yet) and settled on something we both liked. No - I didn't have any chick-flicks and we did not watch Tootsie or Priscilla, Queen of the Desert.

We sat together on the couch, which slowly developed into cuddling together on the couch. Her shoulder was conveniently at the right height for my head and her arm fit nicely around me. As the music at the end of the DVD began it's repetitious serenade her hand settled on my nipple and I could do nothing but cuddle closer as she sent thrills through my body.

"You're wearing one of those camisoles, aren't you?" she didn't ask, she stated."

"Uh… yeah…"

"Thought so."

"I tried… without it and… it was… too much!"

I was having a hard time getting the words out.When I found my head pillowed on her breasts I gave up talking, and at this point I am going to give up writing.