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When The Best Hug You’ve Had in 20 Years Comes From Your Ortho Surgeon
There might be a problem
Thursday I was booked up from the time my feet hit the floor until I passed out at midnight. Dr. Teddy Bear was my 1145am appointment. Two shots in my right hand were on tap. He had given me a shot a couple of years ago and it finally wore off and was time for a tune-up.
I hear him outside the exam room door. I’m expecting the man I remembered. Tall, handsome with the professional “I’ve got it all together” manly haircut that I was used to seeing him in. Professional attire, maybe with or not his white lab coat.
Who walked through the door was no one that I recall having ever seen before.
Mouth-watering HOT.
Holy hell, the last two years have been good to him. WOWZERS. His hair is longer now; down to his collar. I called it his surfer's hair. He called it his COVID hair. Either way, it was sexy as hell. Wire-framed glasses. A blazer with patches on the elbows. He looked more like a college professor.
From my chair, “Gomba!”. Apparently, that was the only trigger or invitation he needed. He threw his arms open. So up I got, and we embraced. I’m not used to this from anyone, let alone a surgeon that I hadn’t seen since the pre-COVID days.
