Saving the Doctor Pt. 01

He had always thought she was beautiful, and had initially assumed she had a boyfriend or husband already. She had a fashion model type of body, with tall skinny legs, narrow hips, and a torso to match, a long slender neck and a defined jaw line. Her medium length straight black hair was usually kept in a tight bun. Her eyes were beautiful and piercing.

Before she asked him out he had thought she hated him, because she was always grilling him with questions during rounds, and would go to him more than others to do this or that on the wards. It turned out that's just how she expresses her attention on someone. Her piercing eyes, always seeming to be on him, weren't annoyed with him, but were actually carefully assessing and calculating whether she wanted him. Turns out she did.

He always thought she was a woman that could make what some men called a resting-bitch-face, look sexy. He tried telling her that as a bad joke once. She didn't take it well, coming back over to him every hour through the evening with new retorts on why that wasn't true and why he was an asshole for saying it. He knew he wasn't the only one that thought it though. She had a reputation in the hospital, especially among the men. The "wicked-hot witch of the wards" was one name thrown around. The way they talked about her, it sounded like she had been asked-out by every man in the hospital, and turned down each one. When he eventually told the other guys on his next rotation that they were dating and that SHE had asked him out, he was met with disbelief until word got around that she had confirmed it.

Their relationship developed slowly. A series of highly scheduled dates whenever their limited time-off synced up. The first time he met her at an upscale restaurant and saw her fully dolled-up in a cocktail dress he almost left. He felt like a hobo walking up to the queen's dining table, regardless of his new suit and haircut. She radiated class and elegance, looking like she deserved to be on the arm of some billionaire play-boy, not his awkward nerdy self. They stayed together though, despite him always thinking she was one bad date away from dumping him.

The sex came after a few dates and it was something else. The same unstoppable effort she put into being the best in everything else, she put into being the best in bed. So, it was her version of perfect. Which was still amazing. A determined progression through positions and moves that she had planned beforehand, trying to give him as much pleasure as she could.

It always worked. Too well at first, actually, and he was really embarrassed his first couple of times with her, when he climaxed fairly soon, but she acted like she didn't know why he would be. He quickly learned that she refused to take her own pleasure into account, and would never answer him when he almost begged her to tell him what SHE wanted, and what would make HER feel good, other than the satisfaction of driving him wild. It took quite a few times before he finally got her to orgasm. She always seemed to fight it, and acted embarrassed afterwards, but in those few precious moments when she was cumming he discovered a passionate, delicate girl clinging desperately to him like he was life itself. It was incredible.

Eventually he learned a few of her kinks and what set her off and their sessions became a competition of who could make the other one cum. She almost always won but his score count increased more and more. He wondered afterwards how rare orgasms had been for her up to that point, but she would never talk openly about it, other than to admit that she'd never had as many as with him.

Despite this, their sex always seemed to lack a true emotional quality. She was beautiful, her body was incredible, and they did it often, so he really shouldn't be able to complain, but sex always seemed like a procedure. A very well done procedure, but still, it never felt like a natural spontaneous love-making between two deeply connected people.

She shocked him again when after 8 months she asked, or more told him, that they should move in together. It made sense after all, since it was so hard to see each other with their work schedule. She made it seem like a simple logical step, but he already at that point could sense a real emotional longing buried deep behind those piercing eyes. The thought of not seeing him as much was unacceptable because it would be unbearable. It ironically made him see her firm, determined exterior as a passionate and intense desire for him. She put so much of her Type-A effort into scheduling and running their relationship because losing his love and affection was unthinkable.

He probably wouldn't have stayed with her, had he not discovered this deeper underpinning to her domineering ways. She never admitted it of course, but he was sure it was there. It came through on the few nights they were able to fall asleep in each others arms on the couch after she had found the perfect movie for them and the softest blanket to snuggle up under. When she looked at him expectantly over top of the delicious breakfast that she had gotten up early to make for them the next day. He could always, just barely, sense a very human vulnerability there, and he cherished it.

Then things changed in the last half of their final year. Her nephrology program was longer than his family medicine stream, so despite her seniority they would graduate at the same time. They had started to have conversations, and eventually arguments about where they would work afterwards. It got to the point where he was beginning to seriously question the long-term viability of their relationship.

He remembered she had walked up to him silently, with a serious look on her face, and he steeled himself for another of her long-winded rehearsed explanations of why her plans made more sense. However, all she did was look at him, open her mouth in a rare hesitation, and then speak the words:

"I love you."

He remembered the words sneaking into his brain before he could register their meaning, then exploding like a bomb smuggled into a building. Her expressionless face didn't change, but his eyes welled up with tears and he said back what he suddenly realized he had been wanting to say for so long.

"I love you too!"

He kissed her and hugged her close. Tears rolled down his face. She never cried, but she kept her arms around him, clinging to him for minutes on end, which was rare, compared to her usually brief hugs.

He never questioned whether she meant it, but he wondered, much later on, if there had been some tactic behind the move, because he ended up agreeing to her plans not long after this.

A month later he proposed to her. He remembered blubbering in tears again after she said yes, while she stood cool and collected, but her beautiful eyes shone into his with pride and happiness.

She seemed to find a new level of devotion towards their relationship after that. She used the word "fiance" at every opportunity. They shopped for houses, started to make plans for the wedding, though they hadn't set a date yet. She organized their lives and worked hard to keep everything perfect, because he was her man. It was a simple, obvious, unchanging fact, like anything else. It mostly felt good, but it became overbearing at times, and she was developing more and more of a jealous streak when it came to him being around other women that she considered attractive.

Still, he always felt like she was out of his league. She never indicated anything of the sort though. She had actually joked before that he would be her trophy husband, or her arm-candy. He knew he was decent-looking. She, and a fair number of other women throughout his life had convinced him enough of that, but he was never able to find any true confidence from it.

He knew he ticked the boxes; good-looking, tall, athletic, doctor, pushing 30 but not yet balding or greying, above-average penis, tolerable foot odor. (He secretly, only-half-jokingly wondered if Elaina had exactly that list squirreled away in a box somewhere from when she first met him, with "comes from money" crossed out at the bottom). Despite all the facts, he was just naturally self-conscious.

It was part of his job as a doctor to question and doubt and decipher, and he couldn't help doing that everywhere, including to himself, over-analyzing and picking apart everything he did and said. Sure, he could put on the front of a suave, confident, totally-has-his-shit-together caricature of a doctor, when the need arose, so whoever's anxiety he needed to quell in that moment could trust him with their life. It was a thin veneer though, and he honestly couldn't understand how anyone could do it every second of their life, let alone believe it.

Jon knew too well that life was uncertain. The universe was uncertain. Nothing was ever completely ruled in or ruled out, only a rising or falling level of probability. To live in denial of that was to lie to yourself in false reassurance. He had tried to talk to Elaina about this stuff a number of times but she was too facts-driven to care. Everything was a chemical equation with a clear solution to be found, and he and his philosophizing were impertinent to that.

He knew psychologically it wasn't good to wallow in self-doubt, and so far, he was always able to pull it together and get the job done when he needed to. The more stressed, the more sleep deprived he became however, the more it creeped in and threatened him with an existential crisis.

Maybe the uber-jocks of the world have it right, he thought as he stared down the street in front of him. Just stick your head in the sand and wag your dick around pretending like you got the whole world figured out.

No, he quickly thought again. Just find your balance like you know you have to. The day I start acting like that is the day I should get in a Corvette with a leather jacket and designer sunglasses and drive myself off a cliff.

He pulled his Toyota into the garage of their new home. It looked out of place rolling up to the sprawling monstrosity of a house they had bought. She had told him to trade up to a higher-end vehicle a number of times, and even started car-shopping for him, but he had a soft spot in his heart for the thing. It was only a few years old, still nice enough to look respectable, and ran well. He'd had it since the start of residency, and it was one of the last things connecting him to his old life.

The house was beautiful, but felt impersonal. He knew it took a few months before any place started to feel like home, but he had a hard time believing he'd ever feel comfortable here. He hadn't grown up dirt poor, but definitely lower-middle-class. He had learned very early on to always be careful with money. This house and their lifestyle was very quickly becoming everything he wasn't. The price tag seemed insane to him, but with both of them working now, he eventually conceded that the math worked out. The mortgage was easy to approve. He just felt that it was a lot of debt to go into when he still had student loans being paid off.

He had to admit it had some very nice features though. The high ceilings, the huge windows, a nice large deck with a spectacular view of the rest of the city in the valley below and a huge hot tub. Elaina was disappointed there was no full sized pool, but he couldn't fathom why they would need that in addition to everything else. She had already suggested tearing up the small garden and putting a pool there instead, but he had been a bit excited to try out his green thumb. There was more space than they could use. Four bedrooms, 3 bathrooms, a huge finished basement with a den. He wondered why all the space when they had no plans for kids.

They had talked about it a few times. He had said that he did want kids eventually, and that it didn't really matter when, knowing that no one's ever fully ready. She was much less enthusiastic, eventually conceding 'maybe', far off in the future. Really he suspected she was just afraid of saying no, and starting another argument. So, they had no plans of growing into this place as any kind of family, but she explained how they could each use a room as an office, and keep one as a guest room. He had suggested they could get a dog, but she quickly rationalized how they didn't have the time to look after one, and the problem of the messes it would make.

Yep, the house was perfect.

He couldn't feel less at home.

He went to check the mail before going inside, and saw his neighbor Tabitha weeding her flower bed. She was a tiny young woman, much shorter but not quite as skinny as Elaina. Though she looked like she weighed absolutely nothing, she had a bit more accent to the curve of her body, as he found his eyes lingering on her backside as she bent over the flowers. He broke out of his careless staring and chastised himself for it, then decided to say hi to feel less creepy.

"Hi Tabitha," he said politely.

She startled and popped up suddenly straightening her sun hat and tank top.

"Oh! H-hi, Jon!" she stuttered. She invariably had this bubbly nervous excitement whenever she talked to him. "Long day at the clinic?"

"Yeah. There's been a lot of those unfortunately. The flowers look great."

She blushed and gave an embarrassed smile. "Aw thanks. It's a struggle to keep them nice, or at least as nice as everyone else's around here. I don't know how they do it."

"Honestly I think most of them just 'cheat' and hire gardeners for it."

She giggled "Maybe. I like gardening actually, I'm just kinda self-conscious. Elaina had pointed out a few dandelions that had snuck in."

"I never would've noticed," Jon reassured her. "Hey thanks again for the carrot cake the other day that was really thoughtful, ...and delicious."

"Aw thanks. I'm glad you liked it. It was the least I could do to welcome you guys here. Can you remind Elaina to bring my pan back though?" she asked timidly. "I thought maybe you guys were still eating it, but it's been a week."

"Oh! Yeah of course I thought she had already. Anyway, I'm already late getting home so I'd better head in. Take care."

"You too. Stop in any time!" she gave a friendly wave and nervously turned back to her work.

Jon walked in the house to find Elaina organizing the take-out food on the kitchen counter.

"Hi honey, sorry I got caught up with paperwork and phone calls again, and Doug got talking to me for a bit." He took a plate of food and they sat down at the huge solid wood table.

"Well, I'm getting used to it at this point. I still don't know what takes you so long. Do you think you need a different assistant?" she asked.

"No Beth's fine. The clinic runs smoothly enough," he reassured her

"I still don't like that girl, something about her rubs me the wrong way."

"You've only met her a couple times."

"It was enough. She just doesn't seem... professional enough. I don't like the way she looks at you."

"She's worked at the clinic for over a year already, as far as I can tell no one else has had a problem with her," he tried to reassure her.

"Fine," she shrugged, not seeming satisfied.

"I'm just.. not quick enough with visits, and documentation. I'm still trying to do too much I guess. It's getting harder to focus recently too," he said.

"Oh?.." she sounded concerned. "Something distracting you?"

"Just, my sleep hasn't been the greatest. I'm just way more stressed. It's a different kind of stress than being on the wards. It's hard to explain."

"Oh," she replied, seeming to have expected a different answer. "Well like I've told you it comes with the territory honey," she shrugged. "I still don't get why this is suddenly an issue for you."

"Like I said, it's different than the wards. When we were training there was always that light at the end of the tunnel, even with the hardest rotations that there was an end in sight. I just figured starting into my own practice finally would be a bit more freeing. It's felt like the opposite."

"You'll get used to it, everyone does," she reassured him lamely. "Honestly I'm wishing I was busier."

"You're 1 of only 3 nephrologists, you're on call every 3 days," he said in disbelief.

"It's every 2 right now until Debra gets back actually," she added, "but it's a smaller hospital than what I was used to, and consults don't come as often. I'm not billing as much as I had hoped. The clinic's nice and full, and the dialysis unit's consistent, but still."

"We're doing fine for money," he countered. "Hell I've been wanting to cut back on my clinic numbers, but the wait times would get out of hand."

"Honey, we need to save up for the pool," she reminded him.

"Yeah about that, I was thinking we could wait a year, just try a small garden and see if we like it."

"We aren't going to entertain guests with a garden," she said.

"Depends on the guests," he shrugged. "Also what guests?"

"I want us to start hosting parties honey, we talked about this," she said with a sigh. "We're new here, and we're staying long term. We need to network and socialize." She left out the "obviously" but it was clear in her tone.

He dreaded the idea, but agreed anyway.

"Besides," she said. "If you keep a garden I don't know if I can trust anymore that you'd only be growing vegetables in it."

He sighed, "It was ONE TIME, one joint, I couldn't sleep. I'm not smoking up regularly I promise you." he stood up to start clearing the table.

"Where did you even get it?" she asked angrily.

"It was left over from a long time ago, I found it stashed away. It was stale as hell if that makes you feel any better."

"It doesn't. Why would it?" she crossed her arms angrily.

He facepalmed, and sighed. He looked back at her, with her crossed arms pushing her breasts up, her hips leaned to the side, and her eyes piercing a hole through him.

God she was sexy when she was angry. It sucked that she was never horny at the same time though. One time in an argument he had tried to kiss her and lift her on to the kitchen table knocking a few dishes to the floor. It was the only time she had ever slapped him in the face. Then screamed about the broken dishes. She hadn't talked to him for a full day after that.

He tried to switch gears. "I could grow you some flowers," he said, and smirked apologetically.

She rolled her eyes, "I don't need flowers." She turned away and walked towards the kitchen. "Ask Beth, maybe she does."

"Oh COME ON!"

He left her to clean up the dishes herself, knowing he'd just dig himself a deeper hole if he remained in the room.

He found a beer and sat out on the deck to cool down.

A beautiful sunset washed across the sky. Why was his life seeming like such shit? This should be the culmination of years of work, finally paying off, yet here he was, fighting off a crushing depression and losing.

He had long since done away with any illusions that medicine was anything close to the flashy, exciting bullshit they showed in the movies and TV. Even before getting into medical school he had fairly realistic expectations of what most day to day life entailed.

He was mature enough now to know that he wouldn't want endless 'excitement' and adrenaline either, because those situations meant people fucking dying. Only a certain percent of lives could come back from the brink, no matter how many right moves you made, and he felt like he'd have to be a sociopath to want to see that non-stop. Each to their own, he supposed, and even the ER guys had their own type of drudgery.

He always knew there would be drudgery. He knew there would be bad days, but still... everything felt so soul-sucking, so thankless, so hopeless when the root cause of so many problems was beyond his control. He knew he should still be finding satisfaction in the things he WAS able to change, but he just couldn't.