Chapter 4
four
. . .
“That’s not really your name, is it?” I asked, eyeing her suspiciously.
She glanced down and held her name badge between her fingers. “Which part? Chastity or Cummin?”
I laughed, winced and became dizzy again. “Now I know for sure I’m having a bad trip.”
“Yeah, a bad trip to the hospital,” she mused in a sarcastic tone, like she’d heard every joke in the book about her name.
“Who the hell names their baby that?”
“Chastity or Cummin? because my mammy was a fan of the name Chastity, and Cummin is my married name.”
“Your husband isn’t called Willie or Izzy or anything like that, is he?” I asked, laughing.
“My husband isn’t called anything—he died last year. And before you apologize and tell me you’re sorry for my loss, I dodged a bullet. The fucker cheated on me three weeks after we married.”
“But you kept the name.”
She glanced at the nametag again and chuckled. “Yeah, it’s like a stage name now on my Only Fans page.”
“You’re not serious about that, right?”
“Oh, maybe I am, maybe I’m not. But I’ll keep you guessing,” she said and flashed me a wicked smile.
My conversation with Chastity was a welcome distraction from the nausea and constant dizzy feeling inside my head.
But the moment the door opened and a doctor, who looked like he’d stepped out of GQ magazine, strode in and cracked a megawatt smile at the nurse, I closed my eyes, and fleetingly thought maybe I was tripping again.
“Hi, Harry, my name’s Dr. Gristle. If you’ll just give me a minute, I’ll just review your chart with Chas here.”
“Chas? Oh, Chastity,” I mumbled before my stomach rolled and I thought I might be sick again. I inhaled deep into my lungs and breathed out slowly while I tried to manage this.
“I’m Chas here at work. The only people that use Chastity are the people on my social media pages.”
“Okay, the joke’s on me. I’m too sick for this shit. Just tell me what’s the matter with me and I’ll be on my way… if I’m even in a real fucking hospital in the first place.”
The doctor finished reading his notes and spoke to Chastity.
“I’m almost certain its labyrinthitis or vestibular neuritis.
But we’ll do an MRI, and we’ll have the blood results soon which should shed some light on the problem.
Meanwhile, you can push some anti-emetics and fluids, and perhaps it would be a good idea to lower the lighting in here.
Give him a couple of hours, then slowly raise him with a wedge until he’s in a semi recumbent position. ”
“That’s what I thought it might be. Poor wee soul, he’s been vomiting bile. I took the liberty of asking you what bloods you’d need profiled, to cut down on time. I’m sure he’s on tour right now, and he’ll want to get this sorted as soon as we can.”
“He’s sitting over here, listening to everything you’re both saying. How’s about you speak to me like I’m a person and not regard me like a specimen in a teaching session.”
“You’re right, of course. Pardon me, this is an interesting case for us. I just got carried away,” the doctor said.
“Apology accepted. Just sort out this fucking nausea,” I muttered when my stomach rolled again.
“Can’t promise anything but it should begin to settle down once the pressure in the inner ear is relieved. And once the medications start working, you’ll feel ten times better.”
Five hours, one MRI and two bags of magic infusion fluid loaded with anti-sickness drugs later, I had begun to feel human. Felt like a new man too, since I was almost fully able to appreciate the gorgeous Chastity flitting around the room.
“Think you could tolerate eating something yet? A graham cracker or a piece of dry toast? ”
“Well, you certainly know the way to a man’s heart with tempting suggestions like that,” I joked, even managing a smile now. I picked up the plastic beaker of water and began to take small sips.
“Every woman that’s clued up knows the way to a man’s heart has nothing to do with eating, unless his head is between her thighs.”
Chastity’s comment caught me by surprise, and I inhaled my water. She came and patted my back while I coughed and spluttered, all the while laughing at the crude comment she’d made. “Sorry, it w-went down th-the wrong hole,” I choked out.
“Heard that said a time or two as well, but the circumstances were way different to this one.” When my dick stirred with interest inside my boxer briefs at her lewd comment, I knew I was well on the way to recovery.
Chastity flashed me an impish grin. “True story that,” she confessed, then winked at me.
“Oh, my God, are you for real? Where did you come from, and where have you been all my life? Are all Scottish women this straight talking about sex?”
“Most Scottish women are good girls. You know… kind, faithful and loving, but private for the most part.”
“But you’re different? Is that what you want me to think?”
“Think what you like. After all thinking is free, it’s the doing that costs us all money.”
“Doing? I see what you mean. But there are still things you can do that don’t cost money.”
“Like sex… the act itself might be free, but might still re quire condoms, and need detergent for the sheets in the aftermath of it all,” she reasoned.
“You’re cracking me up,” I chuckled, realizing I’d begun to feel much better during the previous hour.
“Better than being up your crack, unless you like your prostate tickled.”
I stared in silence, speechless for once in my life because Chastity wasn’t just another beautiful woman I’d met, she was on a whole other level.