“Unfortunately, we still have a lot of work to do when it comes to understanding women’s bodies,” he says, diplomatically.
It’s good to know Jo is out there trying to do the research.
Dr. Rappon continues, “As far as the anorgasmia being related to the stimulant, yes. It’s possible. These medications affect neurotransmitters in the brain, and occasionally that can lead to difficulties in the way our bodies function in other areas.”
Even though intellectually I knew I wasn’t doing anything wrong, I’m still hit with an immediate wave of relief hearing him confirm there could actually be a legitimate medical reason for my problem. And it’s not just me. Although, it sucks to be part of the decreased libido group and not the fun one. Figures.
“Would, um, would anorgasmia be a good enough reason to try a different medication?”
Dr. Rappon gives me a level look. “My job is to help you find what works best for you. If you aren’t satisfied with your current meds for any reason, we can either adjust the dosage or try something else.”
“I’m definitely not satisfied,” I admit with a smirk, letting a little humor come through.
A small smile crosses his face as he picks up on my double-meaning. “No problem. I’d prefer to wean you off one drug slowly before we try another. How about we try this: I’ll write this month’s prescription for a lower dose, and we’ll see how you feel, especially adding the estrogen. If you find you’re still experiencing these symptoms by our next appointment, we’ll talk about some other options. Sound good?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
With my medication plan settled, at least I know I can head to class this afternoon with a clear conscience and a loose semblance of a plan. I’ve got this. Maybe I don’t even need Jordan after all.
I’d still like to talk to someone about my body who truly understands, so I finally reach out to Jo. Only this time, I’m not taking any chances sharing this information with her over the phone, so I shoot off a quick text to ask if she can meet in person.
Me:Hey! I know it’s been a while. I’ve been following your posts, and I love seeing you absolutely kill it professionally. I’ll be coming home soon for a quick visit. Think you’ll have time to grab lunch and catch up?
She writes back quickly.
Jo:Absolutely! I’d love to see you. Let me know where and when. I’ll be there.
Through a few more brief texts, we make plans to meet at our favorite cafe the day after Mike’s game.
Jo:Can’t wait! See you soon.
Chapter 14
Jordan
Punching a fist into my glove, I get set as Beauchamp steps up to the plate. Coach Johnson has divided us into two teams for practice. Beauchamp is one of the opposing team’s best hitters, and he’s already scored on us twice in this scrimmage.
The Blue Crabs had a rough season last year, but lately we’ve been on a winning streak, and I’m not going to be the reason it ends, if I can help it. So, I’m putting my all into this practice.
Beau makes contact on the first pitch and sends a line drive straight over my head. I jump up, stretching to snag the ball out of the air. When I make the catch, Beau stops short and turns to head back to the dugout.
I shake out my elbow and smile, knowing I do still have at leastsomelife left in my game. But I don’t know how much longer I want to do this. Is it even worth it anymore?
This isn’t as easy as it used to be. Twenty-eight isn’t old, but it’s the oldest I’ve ever been, and I’m feeling every single day of it. As much as I love the game, this is the only body I’m going to get, and the thought of destroying it to stretch out my career for another season or two is starting to seem kind of stupid.
I know I need to talk to Coach Johnson, but I’m dreading the whole conversation. Not to mention, I have no plan. What am I supposed to do with myself after I quit? Technically, there’s nothing tying me to North Bay. I could go anywhere, doanything. Or maybe notanything. But anything a mostly able-bodied twenty-something without a degree or any formal job training can do. Which doesn’t leave a lot of options, especially in a small town. But I like it here. It’s the first place I’ve been able to settle down and feel like I’m building a life.
As we wrap up and head to the locker room, Rodriguez jogs up next to me. “You better be there tonight. I’m not taking no for an answer this time. You’ve missed the last three poker nights. The Foxhounds have a late game. We’ll keep the TV on and watch Mike play.”
“Yeah, I’m coming,” I assure him.
“Good. Davis will be there, too. And feel free to bring Jake.”
“I’ll ask him,” I promise. “You sticking around for conditioning?”
“Nah. I’m gonna head out and set up.”
As he leaves, I make my way down to the weight room.
