I swallow again and try to keep my face neutral. I’m glad women have options available, but twothousanddollars? And I’d have to do it three times a year. Not just needles, then. Expensive needles. Bet the insurance companies have no problem covering boner pills, though, do they?
Is it worth spending two thousand dollars every few months for a chance to be able to come?
My first instinct isHell no!I don’t want a shot there,and I’m definitely not willing to pay six thousand dollars a year for the privilege. Dr. Dupree doesn’t seem super keen on the ideaeither, since it’s not something she offers to her patients, but I guess I should consider all my options. Although, I think the cost alone just made the decision for me. That’s more debt I would have to pile on top of what I already owe. It’s not like I can call my parents and ask them for money for this. Then again, are fear and money good enough reasons to give up a chance at healing my body?
“I’ll need to think about it.” I sigh.
“You do that. In the meantime, I’ll write the script for the cream. Can I do anything else for you today?”
Dr. Dupree has a reputation as the best gynecologist in the D.C. metro area, that’s why I was referred here, and even she can’t pin down exactlywhymy body can’t achieve orgasm.
Behold, my befuddling beaver, folks.
“Why are these decisions so hard?” I groan. This whole situation feels hopeless.
“I can also refer you to a therapist or another psychiatrist,” Dr. Dupree offers. “Sometimes the issue is up here.” She taps lightly on her temple with one finger.
“Thanks. I already have one of each.” I’m out here collecting doctors like Pokémon cards on my quest for sexual satisfaction. Obviously, it’s not going well.
She says she’ll also call in a new script for my birth control pills to the pharmacy. Then Dr. Dupree leaves, and the nurse stays to draw my blood. I can’t watch, but thankfully, she finds my vein with no trouble and it’s over quickly. The nurse nods and says a quick goodbye before leaving me alone to get dressed.
I hastily use a wad of cheap one-ply tissues from the box on the counter to clean myself up before digging out the underwear I hid under my pile of clothes. Because I’ll let her inside my body, but heaven forbid the doctor sees my striped bikini-cut briefs. I roll my eyes at myself and step into thepanties, pull my maroon shift dress back over my head, and slide my feet into my sandals.
Grabbing my phone, I see my sisters are still active in our group chat. They’re back home in Idaho attending State College, but these dummies are my best friends, and since I graduated last year, I miss them so hard it hurts.
Me:No real answers from the doc. She’s giving me a cream. There’s also a shot I can try, but it’s elective. And crazy expensive. Guess it’s time to try that dumb toy.
Mads:I have high hopes for you. My roommate says the Petal Pulverizer is “life-changing.” That’s a direct quote. And for what they’re charging for the thing, it better take you to the moon and back AND make you breakfast in the morning.
She’s right, the toy was also expensive. All of my spare cash this year is going toward this self-pleasure side quest, and the lack of success is maddening. I wish I could follow the common advice to “stop trying so hard to reach the destination and learn to enjoy the journey,” but that would require me to turn off my entire personality. I try hard. It’s who I am. Normally my efforts produce results, like getting a good enough LSAT score to make it into Franklin Monroe. But all my trying seems to mean nothing when it comes to making my body cooperate.
Me:We’ll see. I’m not getting my hopes up.
Our youngest sister finally chimes in.
Mandy: When you decide you hate this toy as much as all the others, bring it to the wedding so I can take it off your hands.
I sigh at her mention of the wedding. I’ve always been close with all three of my siblings, but my relationship with our older brother is…complicated. I love Mike. I do. And I also love his fiancée, Danielle, and the rest of her crazy family. I wouldn’t miss their wedding for the world. But our family history is hard. Mike’s doing well now, he worked hard to get where he is. Butwatching your big brother go to rehab three times for addiction to prescription narcotics takes a toll, and big life events like this now come with lots of extra feelings.
At least our younger sisters get me. Even though they can also drive me nuts, which Mandy especially delights in doing. (Yes, all the Miller children have first names starting with the letter M. People might call me Shelley, but it’s short for Michelle.)
Me:What is wrong with you? Repeat after me. We do not ask for used vibrators.
Mandy:Sorry for caring about the environment and trying to reduce consumer waste. I’ll sanitize it, obviously. What’s the point of letting it rot in your drawer?
Me:Stop! And who says I won’t like it? Maddy’s roommate says it’s life-changing, remember?
Spoiler alert: Life-changing it is not.
Back in my apartment, as expected, I can’t do it. Just like every other time, nothing happens. It’s been almost forty minutes of attempting to stimulate myself with this flower-shaped mini vacuum, and I’m getting sore and chafed, so I give up. My body is broken, and it doesn’t matter how many times or how many different ways I try, I’m never going to be able to get there. The Petal Pulverizer toy lying next to me is just the latest in a long line of failed gadgets, not to mention a waste of one hundred eighty-seven dollars. Which, since I’m living off student loans at the moment, is money I’ll be paying back in interest for years.
I pull a pillow over my face and scream in frustration before I take the toy and throw it at my closet, but because I can’t do anything right today, it falls short and lands softly on the carpet.
Could this be any more humiliating?
Me:Epic fail. Petal remains unpulverized.
I send one last text to the sister group chat and absentmindedly scroll up through the thread. Seeing the photo of Jo’s article from earlier gives me an idea. If anyone I know might have a valid, scientific opinion about what’s going on with me, it will be my old teammate. I should reach out to her, right?
