Ficlets

Cindy, Will You Come Out Tonight

“Doctor Voor, out of curiosity, do you have a, ah, ‘Tummy Buddy’ yourself?”

“No—not yet,” Voor said. “I need to keep my objectivity.”

“Uh-huh,” I said. “Well, thanks for the info. I’ll call if I have any more questions.” I headed for the door.

“You’re welcome. Oh! Would you mind signing a HIPAA release? We need your medical history.”

“I’ll think about it.” But not too hard. I got out of there fast, but stopped at a drugstore on the way home.

I’d learned more than I bargained for at the doctor’s office. There was a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach—but the sinking feeling wasn’t mine.

I looked down. “Will you please cut that out?” The sinking feeling stopped. “Thanks.”

When I got home, I went into the bathroom and sat down on the edge of the tub. “Get out here, please. We need to talk.”

Nothing.

“I don’t want to do this; it’ll hurt me more than it’ll hurt you.” I unwrapped the box from the drugstore. “But I’ve got a bottle of Maximum Strength Dulcolax, and I’m not afraid to use it.”

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