Welcome Back, Spotter
06.08.10
I had the routine down pat before I left the world of sex. First thing in the morning, when I’ve felt the slightest tinge of discomfort when I urinate the night before, I’d see if I can milk any cream. Trust me, it’s a discouraging discovery when something does creep down the urinary tract with your pinched fingers.
I didn’t need to worry about such matters when I was going solo without any sexual partners. However, now that I’ve welcomed back the suitors who had been waiting so patiently, I’ve also been greeted by the return of the potential problems that come with them. Thankfully, I haven’t had many encounters since the horse has leapt from the gate, so it’s easy to determine the source.
Either I have the fuck buddy to blame from last week or the new arrival that happened on Saturday. More than likely, it is Saturday night. He must have scooped up some bacterial free-riders on my buttocks boulevard that caught passage right on down to urethra avenue. It’s merely a case of urethritis unless test results come back with something more serious. Regardless, it’s a nuisance I wasn’t prepared to endure.
What’s more disturbing is that this case of infection might have prematurely ended my military career. I cannot insinuate that it definitely would have, but there’s a distinct possibility that it might have. However, my radar was attuned to prompt remedy so it looks like I might skirt this disaster with a shred of uncommon luck. If I’d delayed treatment or had incurred this wrath any later, it most certainly would have put a roadblock on boot camp.
Even if you have a blister, you have to be prepared to be sent home. Contracting a case of urethritis or even worse would have meant definite delay and potential investigation. If that investigation led to my medical records at the clinic, it’d all be over. At least, until legislation is due to pass in December, that avalanche of evidence could have led to permanent discharge of a different variety. Whatever the actuality might have been, I’m just glad that it has passed me by.
It is disturbing though that something as innocent as a wandering tongue could be all that is necessary to separate me from a future I am eager to begin. Furthermore, I was concerned that any interest I had in the man from Saturday night might be prematurely curtailed by having to share such information. I cringed when he answered my call, but couldn’t delay the inevitable. He took it like a champ though, even though I come off like a dirty whore.
Notwithstanding, I know from former exploits and bouts of urethritis what must transpire over the last two weeks of freedom. First, I cannot have sexual relations with those I had for at least a week until the medication has worked its magic. Second, I cannot risk being reinfected by those two until they’ve been treated or tested as per the nurse practitioner. Third, from having had chronic bouts of urethritis, I know it takes at least a month for the tissue within the urethral walls to fully heal. I’m more prone to infection during the next month, so all suitors are effectively sidelined.
Even though I’d opened myself to a few weeks of fun before basic training, it appears fate would dictate otherwise. Once I enter basic training, I will have no opportunity for sex, let alone access to a phone or even email. It looks like my sobriety will continue de facto for the next three months whether I want it to or not. My eternal gratitude to those bugs in my bum who decided to hitch a journey elsewhere.
Seriously though, it does raise a number of concerns as I must weigh my greatest liability. Sexual engagement can lead to sexually transmitted infections. If I seek to have those infections treated, I must do so secretly or I might otherwise unearth a preponderance of evidence against me. I’ve been counseled that I shouldn’t be concerned as long as I keep my visits to the STD clinic a secret. It’s a necessary evil, but one that I readily accept.
So to all those naysayers out there who were disappointed in my conclusive decisions about the commitments I made, I sincerely hope you are pleased with this most recent turn of events. Someone should get a good chuckle out of this. I certainly have. It is only fitting in some sort of Judeo-Christian paradigm of retribution. However, I can only cringe in welcoming back Spotter and the secretions that not only have the power to stain my sheets, but my heretofore spotless military career.