Page 70 of Confessions of a Virgin on a Dating App
I laughed, my cheeks prickling with heat again. It made my heart leap to have him call me that.
Of course! I had already assumed so.
Fantastic. Goodnight sweetheart. I’ll text you in the morning.
Goodnight Dev.Sleep well.
I spent the rest of the night lying in bed, lost in the sickly-sweet fog of infatuation. But despite my happiness, I couldn’t fall asleep. Because my bed suddenly felt far too big and empty for just me alone.
One thing at a time,I reminded myself as I stared up at the textured ceiling.You’ll get there.
Even if it took a while, Devin had sworn he would wait.
And I truly, deeply believed him.
Chapter 18
Asingle thought permeated my mind as I awoke the next morning.
I’d had one hell of a weekend.
I slunk out of bed and changed into shorts and a t-shirt while my coffee brewed in the kitchen. It was my usual morning routine before I hopped on my computer and clocked into work. It all seemed so ordinary, so mundane…it was hard to believe everything that had happened over the past few days was real.
It all flashed through my mind as I settled into work, digging through files and scanning through manuscripts with Devin heavy on my mind. I relived it all, from the harrowing experience at the hospital to the heart-fluttering kisses in the parking lot after our first date. It left me feeling giddy, weightless, and a bit distracted.
Twenty minutes later, my phone buzzed with a message, and in turn, it made my heart buzz with happiness.
Good morning sweetheart. I hope you’re having a good day at work.
As much as I wanted to spend my morning conversing with him, I had manuscripts to typeset, so I exchanged a few quick texts with Devin before putting my phone aside. He was off on Mondays, but that didn’t stop him from working. In addition to errands and chores, he planned to do some bookkeeping later that afternoon.
I loved how passionate Devin was about the shop. But I was also starting to realize that he was a workaholic.
It’s a shame we never have the same days off.
But with warm, happy thoughts of Devin pushed out of my mind for later, it allowed another new reality of my crazy weekend to sink in.
The hospital visit. My endometriosis.
I need to call that doctor.
I did so on my lunch break, and I discovered that the surgeon was incredibly busy. The next available consult was several weeks away. I swore I could feel my period cramps resurging as frustration boiled in my stomach.
But just as I was about to resign myself to another few weeks of suffering, the medical assistant I was on the phone with exclaimed that she’d found a cancellation. The problem was that it was that same day. At 3:30 pm. Which was during work hours.
I felt both relief at being able to see a doctor right away and dread at the thought of telling my uppity boss that I needed to use personal time on such short notice. But now that I knew what was wrong with me, there was no way I was going through another period cycle from hell. I wanted that surgery.
The other issue was that Lakeland was over an hour away, which meant I would need to clock out at 2 p.m. andprepare for a long drive ahead of me. I slipped away at 1:45 since I needed to fill up my tank, and snacked on a gas station coffee and pretzel on the way to the doctor’s office.
The gynecological surgeon was a specialist who was very familiar with endometriosis cases. They were one of the few surgeons in the area that performed the procedure, hence the 50-mile drive away from Orlando.
Once I got to the tiny office, I also realized the doctor was male.
It left me with a feeling of unease as I shook his hand. I’d only ever had female gynecologists. Not only was my religiously raised self uncomfortable with a man poking around down there, but I’d always had a bias against male doctors specializing in female anatomy. How could he possibly understand my condition? Would he be rough and callous like my previous gynecologist?
It turns out, my prejudices were mistaken. Dr. Rojas, a tall, tan-skinned man with thick glasses and an even thicker accent, quickly became my new favorite doctor. He was both knowledgeable and attentive, taking the time to explain my condition in full detail and answering my numerous questions. It nearly brought me to tears; after a decade of my symptoms being either brushed off or misdiagnosed, I felt acknowledged. I felt heard. I felt like it wasn’t all in my head.
When I brought up the laparoscopy, he immediately agreed to perform the procedure and send me in to meet with his surgery scheduler. He did make sure I was aware that he couldn’t definitively confirm my condition without the surgery, and that there was a chance they could be incorrect about me having endometriosis. But I didn’t care. Every symptom he’d described matched up with what I was experiencing. Even when it came to symptoms that I didn’t know were related, such as my sensitive stomach and digestive issues.
