My good friend Megan was stationed out at Fort Leonard Wood when her fairly serious boyfriend, Brad, came out for a visit. It was at this point that she dropped the bomb on him that her recent physical had come back and she popped positive for Chlamydia. This resulted in mild to moderate fighting and accusations. Words were being thrown around like 'Slut', 'Liar', and 'Weird Smell'. They finally decided that the best course of action would be to get him tested for said disease just incase he had it too. After boldly going where no cue-tip had gone before, and many curse words, tears, and screams filling up the examination room, the results came back that he did not, in fact, have Chlamydia. Another awkward night of arguing ensued mainly around the basic question, "Well if you didn't get it from me then who the hell did you get it from?". Flash forward to the next morning when Megan receives a letter in the mail that they mixed up her results with another patient’s and that she was cleaner than a nun's ass crack. Megan and Brad had great makeup sex. Focus: Any near misses or full-on 'sunk your battleship' hits from the wild and wonderful world of STDs?
Never any real deal scares but as middle school Health class has put the fear of god in me (after seeing close ups of genital warts who wouldn't?) I've become a sort of STD hypochondriac. After a girl I was seeing let out in one of those late night truth sessions that she had gone to student health for Plan B three times for random drunken hook ups. I didn't say anything but quietly went on my way convinced I was going to have cyst and warts hanging of by wiener. I went to my doctor who reluctantly agreed on the peeny tip swab seeing as it would alleviate my stress. He told me that in his 15 years of practice he had not once seen a single case of an STD in his offices. I of coarse took the next three weeks sitting on one ass cheek and got the call that I was free and clear. This is even worse knowing that we never had unprotected sex, we had hooked up with all the proper prophylactics.
I will admit, I have never been tested outside of blood work for the Army entry physical to make sure I wasn't HIV positive. I wrapped it with randoms and was careful, so I have never been too worried. But I always knew that I was clean, since girls I am in a relationship with tend to go to the vag-doctor and get tested all the time, so I imagine I would have heard by now if Jägerette came home from a cunt-scrape crying.
2-3 years back, I had a pregnancy scare that really shouldn't have been one. New Years Eve, at my friends house party in Chicago I knocked out half a bottle of vodka, was pretty fucked up. This girl came in, friend of a friend, 4 inches taller than me, a water polo player. Eventually she pulled my ass into the bathroom and I got in 7 pumps raw before my dick stopped working, never even came close to busting since I couldn't feel a thing. I get a text 3 days later with the "I think I might be pregnant." I'm in NYC, and she's in NC. I kept thinking no way in hell, yet still freaking out because my parents would have killed me or I would have visited the empire state building. Of course, it was negative, 7 pumps. Had an STD scare next year, well maybe just because I thought she was a whore. Beautiful girl hit on me at the bar and took me home after her date got thrown out in front of everyone. It was too easy, and I went to get my first test right after that. I never have looked at Q-Tips the same afterward, tools of the devil god. Honestly, all this fucking technology and they can't do this some other way?
I've had one scare when a gal cheated on me. It was enough. The waiting is just as unhealthy as contracting something nasty. Came up clear though. The goddamn doctor even told me, "Well if you do get it, AIDS medicines are really advanced so you won't die for a long, long time." For a week or so I was convinced I had AIDS. Awesome. So many close calls since then. Some of the hottest, fun gals you could know are viral colonies. Or maybe the moral of the story is don't nail whores. I was hooking up with a girl. We were making out and she got up to go piss. Ok. She comes back, we continue. Then she goes to piss again. Hmmph. She goes to the toilet 4 times in the span of about 10 minutes. I'm a bit curious by now. We get nekkid and I slide my hand up her thigh and slide a finger inside her. It's fucking gooey. Like a warm bowl of snot. At first I think, "Lube? No way," then I kind of sit back until my erection faded. I kept my mouth shut, said it looks like we better call it a night, and drove her home. Found out a couple weeks later she had chlamydia and probably got it off my buddy (no idea they were even fucking). So I'm assuming she was trying to get back at him by infecting me. Seems logical. Another gal was all over me while she was spreading gonorrhea to people. She later contracted herpes as well. I passed on the offer. One girl impressed me because she actually told me she had high risk HPV. We'd flirt, kissed a couple times, get drunk. That's all. She actually told me. I already knew, but I was kind of touched at the honesty.
One of my retarded friends was hooking up with a girl from Italy. She didn't have a great grasp of the English language. Anyways, it turns out my buddy had come down with the clap. He was to cowardly to tell her, so I decided in my infinite wisdom to let her know it might be in her best interest to go get checked out. While we were sitting in a big group by the pool. I couldn't quite make her understand, so in frustration I started clapping and pointing at her cooter. By that time everyone had turned their attention to me and knew exactly what I was trying to tell her. Everyone but her. Her eyes got wide and then she ran off crying. I found out later she thought I was telling her she had AIDS.
Oh god. My highschool girlfriend and I decided to get back together when she was accepted to, and decided to attend the same college as me. I was the only guy she had ever been with, and about a month into our revived relationship she called me crying because the doctor told her she had herpes. I, being an enourmous retard and overcome with guilt, just took her word for it over the next four years of our relationship. Nevermind the fact that neither one of us never had anything resembling a sympton, I still never got checked out or anything - I just accepted I had it. Well at the end of our relationship I found out that she learned just days after the initial diagnosis that the doctor had completely misdiagnosed her, and she was clean as a whistle. She never told me that. Turns out she was afraid I was only staying with her because of the condition, and was afraid I would have left her had I known the truth. And she was right, the guilt I felt over the whole thing (and the fear of trying to find a new girlfriend with the disease) was a huge reason I stayed with her. Since we've broken up, I've been tested three times and I am a lovely and disease free man. Spare me the commentary of the dysfunction of that relationship; I now have an acute awareness of it. And I can honestly say that 99% of the dysfunction lies on her shoulders, I just blame myself for not being able to see through it.
I completely forgot about my friend who got HPV from his whore of a GF. He was fucking pissed because he couldn't fuck chicks for 9 months he read on some medical sites. His doctor told him to just wrap it up, and not even tell any of the girls he slept with. I am pretty sure that could qualify as some sort of malpractice.
I have never been tested outside of HIV bloodwork for my police physical. I don't plan on getting tested anytime soon either. If you have read any of my recent rants in the the rant/rave thread you'd know I'm not getting laid anyway. Why? Philalawyer said it best.
Back in college I was known for partaking in sexual congress with women of questionable morals. At one point I developed painful bumps in my public area. Like all 19 year old assholes, I chose to ignore them. Late one night I was drinking with some friends and we were watching Drawn Together. It was the episode where Clara revealed her "octopussior." An entertainment wiki describes it thusly: "Clara proves otherwise by revealing that her vagina is a gigantic, tentacled monster." That was enough to sufficiently freak me out. The next day I got myself to an urgent care facility where I was told the bumps were just ingrown hairs. Thank Christ.
Speaking of being sufficiently scared to chastity by high school Health class I had the same thing happen. This happened when I was 16 or so and way before I had any sort of sexual contact. I had tried shaving around my sack to tame the wild brush. At the time the ingrown hairs appeared and popped like nasty little zits but I didn't have a clue as to why I was getting painful little zits down there. Examining further I found that I had thousands of little white bumps on my sack, pull the skin tight you'll see what I mean. I was convinced I had contracted something from sitting on a public toilet. I waited a few agonizing months for my yearly physical to bring up. My doctor laughed both of them off informing me of the ingrown hair issue as well as the fact the the little lumps covering my sack were the bases of the hair follicles whether they have hair on them or not and that is how all of them looked. You really have to give it to the scare tactics in Sex ed. They fucked my mind all up.
When I started college, I had just broken up with a girl, and out of nowhere I get a call from someone and let me know I had been in sexual contact with someone who tested positive for HIV. So he starts giving me all the information about what I should do next, and starts going through this massive list. After this person kept me on the phone for entirely too long with a lot of useless, my BS filter kicked on and I said "what the fuck is going on here", only to hear a massive eruption of laughter from a group of people. It turns out my brother had gotten his boss to call, and he (and his entire office) was on the line listening. I blame myself...I should've known better when the guy mentioned the girl by name. I got my payback by duct-taping him to a tree and whipping him with a stick. He got off easy.
I got freaked out by the same thing when I was a kid. Went on for three or four years thinking I had an STD even though I had never had anything close to sex. I was terrified of a girl seeing my dick and telling everyone I had AIDS or something. Huge relief when the doctor told me it was nothing, even though I felt like a complete retard.
In Public Speaking 101 my freshman year we were assigned an informative speech on any topic of the speaker's choosing. Most people do theirs on normal topics like String Theory, the fermentation of cheese and pot. Cue to the last speaker, a quiet, stunningly fit Asian girl. She walks up to the front of the room with a covered board and introduces herself before beginning her speech. She must have been going on for a good two minutes before I took my eyes off her perfect figure and start paying attention. The first thing I catch is "One in three people will contract Genital Herpes in their lifetime." Wait. What? "Symptoms include reddish bumps with a translucent head filled with fluid and can occur often or perhaps only once or twice in a lifetime or as often as once per month." THE FUCK? The look on my face was one of complete shock and awe. Not at the content of the speech necessarily, but the girl speaking. Now, I've got a pretty good radar for girls with questionable morals, but this girl never let off anything prior to the last five minutes. She goes on for a bit and I look around the room to a few fellow rugby players who share the same look and are all furiously texting away. I catch up to the conversation and a pool has been created with the entire pot going to the player that finds out for himself if she's got The Bumps. A fellow rookie is quickly forced, er convinced, to find out and his opportunity comes at a house party the following weekend. He chats her up and despite her supposed "boyfriend" (who is nowhere to be found), he takes her home. He comes back the next morning to the obligatory round of cheers and a standing ovation and tells us despite his nearly forensic exam of her nethers, she didn't have anything. Skip to a week later, he goes in for his bi-monthly STD check (they're $20 at the school clinic, yippee), where he comes to find out that it wasn't Herpes she was carrying around in her girly dirty, but Chlamydia. He goes through his round of antibiotics to clear his new found condition and we come to find out that he fucked her but neglected to wear a condom. With a girl that did a speech on goddamn Genital Herpes. He is mocked and the running joke of the team for a month or so but still claims to this day the $180 was worth it... Something about her gladly taking his load on her face. Fucking moron, but whatever. It's rugby. At least it wasn't something permanent.
The only STD scare I ever had turned out to be Jock Itch. I've slept with a lot of girls, mostly protected, and never caught anything. One of the nice things about being in the military was yearly testing. Made me feel safe.
The NHS recently managed to throw my former partner into a panic thanks to a letter sent to anyone the year they turn twenty five. The letter outlined my age, gave a brief spiel about the NHS and bluntly led into, "If you or your partner are sexually active, its worth getting tested for Chlamydia". Notice the wording, "if you or your partner". The suggestion of an open relationship gave me a slight chuckle before turning to the glorious headline of page two; "GOOD NEWS! Home test kits for Chlamydia are now available!" Friends of mine in the same age bracket had also recently received this letter, I was amused by the wording and left the letter on the side before leaving for work. My partner on the other hand is slightly younger, knew nothing of these letters and in her typical behaviour jumped to the conclusion that I was entertaining women other than her frequently enough to receive a letter from the NHS advising me to undergo tests for Chlamydia. No logical steps, whatsoever. It took almost two hours to explain the situation and calm her down.
Every year, my feet are in the stirrups, I'm wearing a very flattering paper gown and the 150 watt bulb feels pleasantly warm on my inner thights. And, like clockwork as I hear the clinking of the speculum open, my gynecologist will ask the same thing. "We testing for STDs this year" I hear, as she fishes out the special little q-tip with the little combs to give a more precise answer to cervical cancer and disease. My answer is always the same, regardless of my happily married status. "Always." Every year I've come up clean. However, this year she stated before I disrobed that it had been a while since my primary care doctor had taken bloodwork and she wanted to check and see if all was well with my circulatory system. As I agreed to this, she asked if I wanted a herpes/HIV test. I gulped and stated affirmatively. A week later, I got no call from my doctor. I wasn't sure if it was time to panic or just shrug it off. The day after I decide to relax, I get a phone call while I'm in the middle of interviewing a kiddie rapist. It's my doctor. "Pink, you are perfectly healthy. Cholesterol is at 175, white count looks good, everything looks great." I pause, waiting for the results of my HIV/herp test. She doesn't say anything. Finally, in a panicky voice I screech "What about the HIV test?! Or the herps test?!" "HIV was negative. Herpes was positive." I felt my stomach fall into my knees and suddenly the room had taken on a blurry hue as it started to spin. Before I could ask if she was sure, she chirped "But it was for herpes simplex 1, which is what you get with cold sores. Herpes 2 was negative." I sighed in relief and went back to interviewing the deviant. I couldn't shake that awful post-panic feeling all day though. I wish doctors wouldn't pause like that.
Remember the statistic that states condoms work about 97% of the time? I was hooking up with a girl in college whose hole had seen more movement than your average carnival whack-a-mole when the condom broke. Since I was invincible in college, I freaked out a bit that night, but shrugged it off a day later. Three weeks after I get a call that I might want to get tested. I was sweating bullets waiting for those results. Turns out, I actually was invincible in college. Still clean.
I had something similar happen to me. I was supposed to get a call the day after I got the test, but nothing happened. I finally called the clinic two days later, and it turns out they just forgot. The nurse I talked to was going over the results, and even though I was pretty sure I was clean, I was still as nervous as a whore in church on the other end of the line. "Okay, let's see... for the HIV, you're clean, and for the Herpes...." Ohfuckohfuckofuckohfuck! "you're positive..." No! Please God, no! "...but that's just for Herpes 1, you're negative for Herpes 2." Thank. God. Sometimes I swear they do that shit just to fuck with patients. Let me tell you, it's fucking hilarious.