Love, Lust 'n Geology (1ST DRAFT)

Chapter 38: Head check

This chapter is dedicated to sweetness8029 for her continuing interest in & support of the story, & for her encouraging PM's :-)!

Thank u so much, Martha! I really appreciate it :-)!

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Chapter 38: Head check

A call came from Chris's phone while Tom was lying awake in bed, debating whether to get up or not. It was Samina. She immediately and anxiously inquired after his condition. He so loved her for her concern! He spared her his early morning trials and tribulations and relayed that while his dick still hurt, the pain was bearable. She exclaimed in a heartfelt manner that she hoped nothing was seriously wrong! Tom told her not to worry about him, or to be precise, about his dick, and focus on her work instead, assuring her that if there was bad news – he sooooo hoped there wouldn't be! – he'd text her to call him. And if not, well, he'd wait to hear from her after she got back to the island.

The conversation came to an abrupt end when he suggested, (as he had several times before), that she really should let him get her a cell phone so that she wouldn't have to rely on Chris's! (He didn't seem to have the same degree of objection to her using Phil's.) It seemed that she suddenly had to go as Chris was waiting for her at the canoe, so that with a, "I'll think about it, Tom," – the polite Indian at work – and "I love you, Tom. I really hope it's nothing serious!" she quickly hung up. Tom raised a brow and gazed skeptically at his phone, shaking his head as he placed it down on the bed.

Upon arriving at a door on the second floor of a low-rise office building, displaying the sign 'Dr. J. S. Felix' in small lettering, Tom paused for a moment and took a deep breath prior to entering. Despite his present condition – both physical and mental – one corner of his mouth curved up into an involuntary smile in anticipation of the reception he was likely to receive. Relieved to find that there weren't any other patients in the waiting room, he strode to the counter. The receptionist, Lea, who was petite, was half hidden behind it. Her eyes were glued to a computer monitor.

"Hi, Lea!" Tom said.

"Oh, hi, Tom! You here to see Dr. Felix?"

"Yeah."

"Not feeling well?" Talk about an understatement! Sigh.

"Could be better, Lea," Tom muttered, handing her his health card.

"Oh, sorry to hear that!" That makes two of us, Lea! Tom added privately. "The Doc just got in. He should be able to see you in a few."

"Thanks."

As Tom took his seat in one of eight available chairs – yes, exactly eight; he'd had plenty of opportunity to count them over the years while awaiting his turn to see the Doc – it occurred to him that very little had changed in the office since, well, since he was a little kid! He was seeing the same faded, turquoise blue vinyl tiles, the same black, leather-covered chairs, the same cream-coloured blinds on the windows, the same Norman Rockwell prints on the walls. He wondered if he, his Mom and Dr. Felix were suffering from some kind of a Miss Havisham syndrome, unwilling or unable to let go of objects from the past. In his and his Mom's case, it likely had to do with the fact that they were a connection to his Dad and to Devin. But what was the Doc's excuse?

Dr. Felix poked his head out of his office. "Come in, Tom!" he summoned cheerily, as Lea handed the doctor a file, a thick file, his file, from the time he was born. The Doc had delivered him! Tom entered an office that always reminded him more of a professor's than a doctor's. A huge, wooden writing desk occupied the centre, one which'd start off relatively neat in the morning, like now, but by the end of the day become cluttered with papers. Wall-to-wall bookshelves crammed with medical books lined the back of the room. There was a notable omission, however: no computer! A door off to one side opened onto an examining room.