Part 1: The Patient

Prologue

"Did you get the full five thousand this time Baby?" Johnny "King" Muller asked Joyce Collins, his girlfriend and wife of the unsuspecting Kent Collins as she opened the front side passenger door of her car and got in.

She replied, "Yes, just like you told me." With a look of concern on her face she asked, "But what if he asks me about it?"

"Fuck him! That will shut him up. Then give me a call. I'll come get you and we'll take the forty-five grand we've got and blow town with it before he knows you're gone." He said as he began pulling out of the bank's parking lot. "No let's go back to your place, I want you to blow me while I sit in the saps favorite chair. Then I'm going to fuck you silly in his bed. I can't believe that idiot could be home fucking that hot ass of yours all weekend but the moron is working instead."

She slipped her hand down between his legs and lowered the zipper on his pants. Then she reached into the opening and gently began massaging his cock while he drove to her house. Without missing a stroke, she said to him, "We've never done that before, isn't that risky? What if he comes home and catches us?"

'King' was driving with one hand, his other arm being around her small waist and his free hand also already under her dress and rubbing her naked pussy.

"Don't worry your sweet ass about it Baby, I'll take care of him if he shows up!" he said menacingly.

Chapter One - "Off Work Early"

It had been a long hard workweek. In fact, it had been a long hard four months at work. I had put in fifty-five hours of overtime this week alone and being salaried, I would receive no extra pay for it.

This particular week, I had spent almost every waking hour at work trying to keep what I thought was a flaky server up and running, only to find out that the battery-backup it was plugged in to was defective. To make matters worse, the software that was supposed to monitor it was buggy.

To say that I was tired when I walked in the front door of my house would have been the understatement of the century.

Still, I always enjoyed coming home to my showcase house. It was one of the things that reminded me why I worked so hard. I found few things more beautiful than the view provided me when I walked in my front door. The radiant afternoon sunbeams shining through my patio doors onto the hard wood floor of the living room is absolutely unforgettable.

While I was certainly no millionaire, we both loved having all the conveniences we could afford. Most people would think I was crazy for indulging in such luxuries as having high definition televisions and phones in every room in the house including the bathrooms, but I wanted to enjoy the fruits of my labors.

If you had asked me then, I would have told you that life was good and couldn't get any better.

But despite the beautiful view that was waiting form when I walked in the door that day, I was so tired that all I wanted to do was enjoy a nice relaxing shower, grab an ice cold drink from the refrigerator and fall into a coma until my wife Joyce, Joyce Vivian Collins, that's her full name by the way, came home.

Her car had not been in the garage when I pulled up and I just assumed that she was out finding new and creative ways to spend most of my latest paycheck.

She seemed to have a natural talent for causing the money to disappear as fast as I made it. At that time, I didn't even mind that she could go through money faster than a bulimic goes though a buffet.

You see, while I, Kent Collins, might be a geeky, average looking guy of about 5'9" tall and having short brown hair, brown eyes and the pale white complexion of your average office dwelling computer nerd whose never seen the light of day, Joyce was very much not!

She was a stunning blond knockout that most men would have killed for and she knew it. I think the best way for me to describe her is to simply say that she could easily have passed for Anna Nichole Smith's twin sister.

I wasn't stupid enough not to know she was going to be high maintenance when I married her and I also knew from the beginning that I would have to keep her happy.

Yeah, I know, my priorities were screwed up back then.

There could be no doubt about it; I was luckier than most forty-eight year old men. I was not deeply in debt, was not paying off any ex-wives and I had no children to support. The last was by choice.

I had just never felt the need to fight my mortality by procreating and it didn't bother me a bit not to her the 'pitter-patter' of little ones running wildly through the house. I was very fortunate that my trophy wife didn't want to ruin her perfect figure by having a family.

Don't get me wrong; I'm not as selfish as you might think. Had she wanted children, I would have done everything I could to see to it that she had them, even it that meant adoption. But she didn't. So, it was to our mutual satisfaction that she remained that most desirable woman I married for as long as she could.

But back to my story, I had taken a nice long shower and was feeling very relaxed when, with a towel rapped around me, I headed from the master bath to the kitchen. My only desires at that time was to open the refrigerator and find something cold to drink before laying down for a nice long nap. I went through our bedroom, down the hallway and into the living room on my way to the kitchen.

When I got to the living room, I stopped dead in my tracks. What I saw was Joyce's slimy ex- boyfriend, Johnny 'King' Muller, sitting in my favorite chair, nude from the waist down with his pants around his ankles and my bare-chested wife kneeling in front of him trying to see how much of his dick she could use to swab her throat!

Unfortunately, the sight of my unfaithful wife blowing the scum ball was not foremost on my mind at the time. What was foremost on my mind was the pistol laying on the end table that 'King' was reaching for with his right hand.

The events that occurred next are still somewhat of a blur to me. I remember my towel opening in the front and it leaving me completely exposed as I attempted to dive behind the couch. I remember seeing 'King' suddenly grab Joyce by her hair and yank her mouth off of his dick as he tried to aim the pistol in my direction.

After that, I have some recollection of Joyce protesting to 'King' about something. All that was followed by an excruciating pain in my groin just before I hit the floor behind the couch.

The sound of Joyce saying, "Jesus King, you could have warned me!" was the last thing I heard before I passed out from the pain.

It occurred to me later that while 'King' was shooting his big pistol at me, he was also shooting his little pistol at Joyce and his wad had ended up all over her face. From the screaming she did, you would have thought that the shot she received hurt more than the one I did!

It seems that one of my neighbors had heard the gunshot and called 911.

When the Police arrived to find me laying unconscious on the floor in a pool of my own blood, Joyce and 'King' were nowhere in sight.

Despite 'King's' best attempt, I guess I wasn't dead after all!

Chapter Two - "Vas Deferens"

While one usually doesn't use the words 'It sounds worse than it really was" to describe being shot, that is exactly what it was.

When I came to I was in the emergency room being examined by a female physician. The pain in my groin area was almost unbearable and I remember her saying to me as she gave me a shot for it how lucky I was. As I once again passed out when the shot took effect, I didn't find out until later what she meant.

The next thing I remember was waking up in the recovery room. Even in the drug induced state I was in I knew that I had undergone some form of surgery. I think I asked the nurse what had happened before passing out again. When I awakened once more, I was in a hospital room with a different nurse standing over me.

"Welcome back Mr. Collins." She said with a smile on her face without looking up from her watch as she took my pulse.

About that time the fog was lifting enough from my brain for me to begin to feel both cold and pain coming from the area of my testicles.

In horror, I started to lift up the sheet to look under it as I said to her, "What ... what happened to me?"

The nurse grabbed my hands and gently pulled them away. Then she said to me reassuringly, "You're going to be just fine Mr. Collins. Let me page the doctor and he will explain everything to you." With that, she picked up the phone on the stand next to the bed and began speaking into it for several moments.

After she had put down the phone, she turned to me and said, "Dr. Mark Jennings will be here shortly to explain everything to you. Don't worry your in good hands, he's one of the best Urologist in the state. In the mean time, I'm going to give you something to help ease the pain."

I was about to argue with her but before I could say anything she produced a hypodermic, uncapped it, inserted the needle into the IV and began slowly pushing the plunger. Thirty seconds after the fluid began flowing into the tube a car could have run over me and I wouldn't have cared.

Some hours later I reawakened to the sound of voice. There in the room talking, were two people. I recognized the woman as the nurse who been so quick with a hypo but did not know who the man was that she was talking to but I assumed it was one of the hospital physicians.

He glanced over at me and said to her, "Good, he's awake!" and walked over to my bedside.

"I'm Dr. Jennings. You are a very lucky man Mr. Collins." He said to me smiling.

The pain was beginning to hit me even while the fog of sleep was lifting. I looked at him and said, "So everyone keeps telling me. I sure don't feel like it right now."

"I'm bet you don't! But trust me, you are going to be just fine in a few days. You will need to stay in bed for the next day or so." he said confidently, and then added, "Do you have someone to look after you?"

"Huh?" I said to him quizzically before adding, "What happened? Why do my balls hurt so much?" Then, it finally occurred to me to ask the really important question, "I still have them don't I?"

The doctor looked at the nurse and asked, "Hasn't anyone told him?"

"He hasn't had any visitors yet, no family members, no friends, nobody." she replied to the physician.

"Oh, I see." he said to her. Then turned to me, "I have consulted with a few other urologists and the best we can figure out is that when you dived for cover, the towel covering you fell open allowing your testicles to hang freely downward at the time you were shot. Had that not happened, the bullet most probably would have destroyed both your testicles.

Instead, the bullet severed both your 'vas deferens'. That is the technical name for the tubes leading to your testicles. The result was that when the bullet severed them you effectively received an instant vasectomy. It was a one in a million shot. The paramedics got to you very quickly, which is why you did not bleed as badly as you could have.

It was your good fortune that I was already at the hospital seeing another patient when you arrived. I preformed surgery on you to clean and cauterize both the entry and exit wounds of the bullet, and the severed tubes.

This was necessary in order to prevent infection and further bleeding.

I'm sorry to have to tell you but I am pretty sure that you will no longer be capable of producing offspring." He paused a few seconds to let what he said sink in. Then he continued, "However, once you recover, everything should feel and work pretty much the same way it did before with the exception being that you probably will not be able to impregnate a woman." Then he asked, "Do you understand?"

Speechless, I nodded affirmatively.

He continued, "The pain and discomfort you are feeling is about what a man would normally have after having a vasectomy.

Because of the amount of blood you lost I am going to keep you overnight but you can expect to be discharged in the morning. You will probably want to take it easy for a few days and keep ice on the wound to minimize the swelling.

The ice will also help with the pain. When you are discharged, you will be given two prescriptions; one will be an antibiotic to prevent infection and the other a mild painkiller.

Take the antibiotic as indicated and the pain killer only as needed. I'd like to see you at my office in about a week to make sure that the wound is healing correctly.

After that, we'll check your ejaculate for sperm in about three months but I wouldn't get my hopes up if I were you, the damage to your tubes was quite extensive." He looked down at the chart he was holding long enough to write something and then said to me without looking up, "Do you have any questions? Is there anything I need to clarify for you?"

It seemed pretty simple to me so I paraphrased for him, "I take one bullet and now I am permanently shooting blanks! Right?"

"Yes, that's right." He replied before asking, "I can have my office fax something over to your employer tomorrow giving you a week's sick time if you'd like?"

Hell, I needed a brake anyway after the hours I had been putting end so I said to him, "Thanks, that would be great."

"If you need anything or have any questions, just call my office." He said as he handed the chart back to the nurse.

Two minutes later he was gone and five minutes after that I found myself alone and finally had time to consider everything that had happened.

At first I thought the whole thing had been my fault and that, perhaps, I had simply spent too much time at work and had ignored Joyce. Then it occurred to me, nobody made her decide to start seeing 'King' again. She never complained about my not being there for her while she was spending the money I was earning.

I don't know which hurt more, my balls or my heart when the cold hard truth finally sunk in that she probably never cared about me at all. If she ever had, she couldn't have left me lying on the floor the way she did.

Just before I fell asleep again, I made up my mind that the first thing I would do when I got home was to call a lawyer and see about filing for a divorce.

Chapter Three — "Coming Home"

While I was waiting to be discharged the next morning I finally had visitors. I had expected someone from work to come and see me and I was a little surprised when it turned out that my visitors were two representatives from the Atlanta police department.

One was a very tall black man who identified himself as Detective Rollins and the other was a much shorter, stocky Caucasian woman with a somewhat butch haircut that he introduced as Detective Williams.

After Detective Rollins asked me how I was doing, he asked me if I remembered what happened. I recounted what I could remember of the events that led to my being in the hospital to them. Throughout the whole time I was speaking, Detective Williams was busy making notes in her somewhat worn out notepad.

"You know, you're very lucky that the bullet did not hit anything vital and we are not here investigating a homicide."

I was tired of hearing everyone tell me how lucky I was and I guess I was a little curt when I snapped at her saying, "While I am equally as glad that you are not investigating a homicide today, I don't exactly feel very lucky right now. Somehow it does not seem very fortunate to me at all that I was shot by the ass-whole my wife was blowing!"

"Under the circumstances, that's quite understandable Mr. Collins." Detective Rollins said to me, as he handed me his business card, then continued, "Be sure and call me immediately if you remember anything else or should your wife or 'King' try to contact you. One last thing, if you're up to it, and we have the paperwork finished we'd like to bring it by later on and have you sign it. We'll call first if that's acceptable?"

To their credit, the Detectives didn't take my response personally but had responded quite professionally.

I felt bad about being short with them. After all, it wasn't their fault I was shot. I guess I was feeling guilty about being caught up in self-pity. They were right! It really could have been much worse and I really was very lucky to be alive and in one piece. I could have ended up ball-less or worse dead! After I decided to swallow my pride, admit to him that he was right, and apologized for my rudeness, they both left just as the nurse to return to discharge me.

I had spent two days in the hospital and despite what had happened there, I was still looking forward to going home right up to the moment I walked in the door.

Until then it really hadn't hit me. I guess the sight of my blood on the living room floor was what did it or, maybe it was just all the medication they had been pumping into me for the last two days. But, when I saw that dried bloodstain on the floor, I suddenly became nauseous. I barely made it to the bathroom in time.

After I had finished emptying the contents of my stomach into the toilet and rinsed the taste out of my mouth, I made up my mind that I was just going to have to deal with what had happened and headed back into the living room.

When I got there, I sat on the couch and just stared at my favorite chair trying to think of what to do next and tried to put the image of 'King' getting his knob polished by my soon to be ex- wife out of my mind.

Finally I decided to call my boss and explain to him why I hadn't been to work that day and that I would need the rest of the week off. I could tell that he wasn't happy from the tone of his voice, but what the hell, I had enough sick days saved up to have open heart surgery, a hip replacement and a carpal tunnel release and still not make a sizable dent in them.

When I hung up the phone, I checked both the caller ID log and answering machine messages. There were none. Any regrets I had about not being at work instantly disappeared when I realized that my boss didn't even care enough to call and find out why I wasn't at work.

I got my laptop, went into the bedroom and began looking up divorce attorneys on the Internet. Several calls later I found one that looked promising named Howard Booth.

To my good fortune, Mr. Booth was just starting his practice. Personally, I like lawyers that are not long out of law school and eager to get started. Things are still fresh in their mind and they tend to work cheaply. When he offered to come by and discuss the case with me I made up my mind that unless he came across like a total idiot I was going to hire him.

True to his word, Howard showed up at about 2:00 PM that afternoon. He seemed very concerned that I be sure I really wanted a divorce until he heard what had happened. About three hours and several forms later he was leaving seemingly quite pleased at having a new client.

He left and after I refilled the icepack I was using to elevate the pain near my testicles, the doorbell ran. Icepack still in hand, I opened the door.

When I opened it, I was greeted with the lovely smile of Margo Wilson, an old girlfriend whom I hadn't seen in about twenty years.

"Hi, Margo." I said as I smiled, then added, "Long time no see!" I was genuinely happy to see a familiar face.

Margo was standing there in one of those pastel colored uniforms that many women now working in doctor's offices wear. Normally, this attire is about the most unflattering thing for a woman to have on. But she made it look good, which is a tough thing for any woman to pull off.

As I greeted her, I couldn't help but notice that even though she had to be at least forty-two, she had hardly changed a bit. And, to my pleasant surprise was as beautiful as ever. Hell, if anything, the years had made her look even more beautiful.

I was about to tell her so but before I could get the words out she wrapped her arms around me, gave me a gentle hug and said in that sexy British accent of hers, "I heard what happened to you; how are you doing Kent Honey?"

"I'll get by." I said to her. "I'm sorry, I'm being a poor host. Would you like to come in and sit down for a while?" I asked.

She must have noticed the icepack in my hand because she said to me, "You should be sitting down Honey! Do you need me to refill with ice for you?"

"No, thanks. I just filled it a minute ago." The ever growing pain in my scrotum told me I did not want to dwell too much on how beautiful she was. I said to her, "The living room's this way." and motioned in the direction of the living room.

After she saw the bloodstain on the floor, she stood there in silence as her face turned red with anger. Finally, she proceeded to the couch and sat down.

Once she was sitting, I sat down in my favorite chair and lay the icepack on my right thigh. I wasn't about to set it in my crotch in front of her.

Before I could say anything, she jumped up from the couch, took the icepack from my thigh and very gently set it in my lap. "Don't be shy." She said, "I deal with these kinds of things all the time."

'How did she find out? And, for that matter, how could she possibly deal with these kinds of things all the time? Is there some kind of an epidemic of whackos out there running around trying to blow guys balls off?' I thought to myself.

As if reading my mind, she answered me; "I'm a nurse now. I work for Dr. Jennings. When I received your chart from the hospital and saw you were shot, I just had to come over and see how you were doing. I hope you don't mind my intrusion?"

For the first time since I was shot in the scrotum I felt embarrassed about it. I must have blushed because she said to me, "It's nothing to be embarrassed about Honey, I told you I deal with these kind of things all the time. We have lots of men come into the office to receive vasectomies; it's nothing new to me."

I guess my embarrassment turned to anger because I said flippantly, "I didn't get a vasectomy, I got shot!" As soon as the words left my mouth I regretted saying them.

I had just started saying so when she cut me off and softly said in a most soothing voice, "It's OK Kent, I understand. I'd be pissed off if I were you too. I know you must be tired after everything that has happened. Have you had anything to eat?"

She was right, I was angry, very tired and I hadn't eaten since leaving the hospital. It occurred to me that I was indeed hungry.

"I am kind of tired and the last thing I remember eating was breakfast at the hospital." I replied.

She frowned and said, "Well, then that's convenient since I haven't had dinner yet either. I know this really nice Italian restaurant near here that delivers. You still like Italian food don't you?" I nodded affirmatively. She continued, "Then why don't I order something from it and you go lie down for a cat-nap until the food arrives?"

"Sounds good to me. But I get to pay." I insisted.

Protesting, she said, "No, we'll have none of that! It was my idea so I get to pay! After all, I showed up at your doorstep as an uninvited guest. So you have no obligation to feed me! Now you go rest and I'll wake you when it gets here!"

It had been a long day. I was too tired to argue with her so I showed her where the remotes for the TV and satellite were before heading to the master bedroom to retire for my nap.

As I lay there trying to fall asleep, I recalled the good times we had sharing an apartment together with two other friends back in our college days some twenty-five years ago. We had been good friends but things had remained strictly platonic between us.

I was so serious back in those days about getting an education and going to work that I purposely avoided having a social life. It occurred to me as I drifted off to sleep that I couldn't recall seeing a wedding ring on her finger.

About an hour later I was awakened by the sound of Margo's sweet voice softly calling me from the doorway.

I remember as I walked through the living room noticing that she had cleaned up the blood from the floor. You couldn't even tell that anything had ever happened there. I could even hear the sounds of the washer and dryer going in the laundry room.

We sat down at the dinning room table and started eating as we began catching up on old times.

She told me she had been married until her husband had a midlife crisis. He left her for a young girl half his age only to be dumped by the girl two months later for a younger man. I couldn't help but laugh when she told me that when he came back to her begging forgiveness she told him to go 'wank' himself. That was six years ago. Margo also told me that when the last of their three children had joined the Coast Guard and left the 'nest', she re-entered the work place. She had been working for Dr. Jennings for about ten years now.

After listening to the other women in the office talking about their bad experiences in dating, and then observing of some of the things she had seen in Dr. Jennings office, she decided to remain single and take a break from relationships.

Considering what had just happened to me, I could see where she was coming from.

She asked me if I had heard from Marcia and I told her no. I was still pissed off about being shot and I told her that if I never saw Marcia again it would be too soon. I felt the need to explain why so I told her the whole story about what had happened.

Margo listened intently and then when I was finished, said to me, "What are you going to do? I know it's so soon, but have you given it any thought?"

"Divorce the bitch!" I said angrily. I actually regretted saying the words. I looked at Margo for a moment and said, "What's happening to me? Three days ago I was as deeply in love with her as a man could be. Now, I don't think I'd care if the police found her dead body laying in a gutter."

Margo took her hand and placed on mine and said to me, "It's only natural to feel conflicted Kent.

The woman you loved betrayed you with another man and left you for dead. I know it hurts, but time really will ease the pain. You've got a week off from work; take the time to recover both physically and mentally. Don't try to hurry back. Whatever you do, don't try to pretend that nothing has happened. It will just hit you much harder later. But most importantly, try to get out of this house as much as possible. There are too many reminders here. It helps. Trust me; I know."

She looked at her watch, reached into her purse and retrieved a business card; then wrote something on it. Afterwards, she said to me, "This is Dr. Jennings business card and I have written my number on the back. Don't hesitate to call me if you need anything or just if you need someone to talk to. I've got to be at work early tomorrow morning and have to be going but I will call you about noon and see how you are doing. Now hand me that icepack and let me refill it before I leave."

I did and when she came back with the icepack I escorted her to the door. After another hug she was gone and I was left once more alone in the house with just my thoughts to keep me company.

I decided to try to take my mind off of everything that had happened by paying some bills that I knew were about do. I got my laptop and logged onto my bank's site. I was shocked at how low the balance on our checking account was.

After looking at the transactions log, I could see that Joyce had been making regular cash withdrawals every week in the amount of two hundred dollars for almost the last four months, not to mention the unusually high debits paid to some rather overpriced local restaurants during the same time period.

It occurred to me that I better take a look at our savings account too. Except for six thousand dollars it was almost empty. After my anger subsided, I logged into my broker's sever and looked at my mutual funds; they were still untouched. I mentally made a note to call both my bank and broker in the morning and remove all access she had to our accounts. Then I thanked God that Joyce did not get at the mutual funds I had been contributing to for the last several years where most of what you laughingly call my wealth was.

The signs were all there! I just didn't see them. For one thing, Joyce and I had not been intimate for almost four months. At the time, I attributed it to the combination of my not being home enough and Joyce getting her periods. I realize now that it was no coincidence that Joyce 'cut me off' at just about the same time 'King' showed up in town.

But I didn't know all this at the time, and while I might be able to add numbers in hexadecimal, I simply couldn't add one slime ball plus one cheating wife and come up with one affair!

I know it sounds a little preposterous but you have to understand that at the time, between server upgrades, mass workstation shuffles and a host of other major projects I had been putting in so much overtime at work that I had been both too tired and stressed to pay attention to what was happening at home.