McSexy sighs and rubs his face with his hand, as though washing away his frustrations in exchange for a fresh start. Tapping the clipboard with a pen, he steps away from the far corner of the room and returns to the place where Pompoms once stood. "We can check off our biggest concern." He motions towards the table-bed with an open hand like a gameshow host. "Have a seat."

With my back facing the exam table, I place my palms on the table-bed's surface and attempt to push my body up with my arms. Despite getting my feet slightly off the ground, I'm unable to lift my butt up high enough for proper ass clearance. A graceful person might add a bit of a hop to achieve the needed height to successfully land on the table's top, but that will not be happening today. For one thing, I'm not graceful. The other reason is the probable sound of my enormous tush thundering down on the exam table after being thrusted into the air. The thought makes me cringe. Therefore, I decide to face my obstacle and climb up on the table like a toddler scaling the steep terrain of a large couch—carefully ensuring my hospital gown doesn't fly open in the process.

McSexy returns to the chair he sat in when first entering my examination room. Casually lounging as though sitting poolside in a Vegas cabana, he rests the clipboard on his lap. With an arm draped on the back of the chair, the handsome nurse props his head up with his hand—a warm smile defrosting the irritated features etched on his face moments prior.

Ahh, I think to myself. My easy, breezy, beautiful covernurse is back!

"Have you used different soaps lately? Laundry detergents? Bath soaps?" he asks in an effort to uncover the cause of my allergic reaction.

"Nope," I reply, shaking my head for added emphasis.

He scribbles something on a paper attached to the clip board. "Did you eat or drink anything unusual? Food? Supplements?"

"Nope. Just the same old microwave din—." My voice trails off as I catch a fake cough in the crook of my arm. "Excuse me. Just the same old my—grown—faves." The words fall off my lips like first time parachuters afraid to jump. "You know? Dinners full of organically organic—spinach. Nothing out of the ordinary."

He nods. "Did you go anywhere different or new prior to the hives? Or has there been any sort of changes in your environment?"

I shake my head—eyes looking upward as though trying to see my thoughts. "Nope. Haven't jumped into a juniper bush lately."

He glances up through his eyelashes with a silly smirk. "Do you normally jump in juniper bushes?"

"In college," I confess.

McSexy's eyes squint slightly—a grin appearing to play tug of war with curiosity and professionalism. "You seriously jumped in a juniper bush? Those things are—hazardous."

I hold my hands up to the sides of my face in surrender. "When you're tipsy and walking home from the bar at 2 AM—doing a belly flop into a juniper bush sounds like the best idea. EVER. Until the next morning, of course. Woke up with a rash from head to toe."

He chuckles. "I can imagine. Like I said, those things are hazardous."

Bashfulness causes my head to turn away. With a shrug of the shoulders and a sideways glance, I reply, "Live and learn."

"So no recent changes in your environment or activities?"

"Nope. I've sorta been homebound this summer. Same old, same old."

McSexy straightens up in his chair with his elbows on his thighs—hands batting the clipboard between his palms. "Then I think I have everything I need."

"Do you know what caused the allergic reaction?" I ask.

Nurse McSexy puckers his lips ever so slightly and shakes his head. "I don't."

"Will I need more testing to find out what caused it?"

"If it keeps happening—then, yes. Otherwise, in one time cases like these, we just write it off as a mystery."

The word mystery starts an unexpected domino'ing of thoughts in my mind.

First a memory of Queen Elizabeth pops up, and I can hear her lecturing. "Trust the unknown, and you'll find your way," she says.

Needless to say, her cryptic statement about some vague concept referred to as the unknown is about as mysterious as it gets. This prompts me to ask, what the hell does that even mean?

My question triggers an image of Ex-Bot in my mind's eye—

—which brings up Poor Housekeeping Magazine's theory that soul mates are brought into our lives to be teachers. This, of course, reminds me I'm supposed to learn something from McSexy—according to an imaginary Queen Elizabeth. Clearly, I'm fucked up in the head.

I don't get it, I scream internally. How do I trust the unknown? What am I supposed to learn from McSexy? None of it makes logical sense!

The words logical sense impale my abdomen like a knife, sparking something from within. This has nothing to do with logic, I realize with silent conviction and hesitation. It's falling—into uncertainty—with absolute certainty.

It's as though a dim light flickers to life from the darkness inside myself. There are no words to express what's happening to me right now, because thoughts are nonexistent as I fall into uncertainty with absolute certainty. A state of surrender. Directing my attention towards nothing and everything I ask, Are you happy now?

"Thank you." McSexy's words startle me out of my thoughts and back to physical reality.

"For what?" I question.

"For sticking up for me—in front of the surgeon."

I glance up quickly towards the heavens. Coincidence? Or certain uncertainty? 

"Oh!" I reply. "Don't thank me. I was just—." I catch another fake cough in the crook of my arm, afraid to burst through the protective wall separating what is proper or appropriate for patients to discuss with respected medical professionals. After all, McSexy's personal life is none of my business. On the other hand, how is my man-nurse supposed to teach me anything if he doesn't get off the Group Health protocol train?

He did probe a bit further into your juniper bush story, an inner voice whispers. A tiny detour from professionalism would probably be—okay.

"Excuse me," I apologize. "No thank you needed. I just felt like I had to say something. The guy was being a jerk."

McSexy smiles. "He's a good doctor."

"Maybe. But that was some douche baggery he was throwing down," I counter. Without allowing myself time to think about the possible effects of my next words, I add, "Intuition tells me he stabbed you in the back."

A pause and feeling of hesitancy fills the room before McSexy responds. "Your spidey sense would be correct. The knife is still stuck between my shoulders." Nervously tapping the clipboard repeatedly with his pen like a drum, he redirects the conversation. "The plan is to attack those hives with some Diphenhydramine and Loratadine."

"Sounds intense," I reply. My ego wilts a bit because McSexy didn't accept my invitation for a heart-to-heart conversation, but it rejoices due to the fact something stronger than a measly Claritin is required to solve my medical issues. It would've been embarrassing to check myself into Urgent Care for nothing more than over-the-counter medication.

"It should help," McSexy adds. "In an hour I'll recheck to see if the swelling and redness has gone down."

"An hour?"

McSexy nods in what appears to be an expression of sympathy. "We need to make sure the Diphenhydramine and Loratadine work. Sometimes they don't."

"I have to be here for another hour?" I repeat, desperately trying to keep the whiny tone out of my voice.

McSexy smiles. "My assistant can bring you a magazine or something to help pass the time."

I contort my face with twisted lips. "Sure. What the heck. I'll take a magazine."

"Great. I'll let her know." With another tap of the pen to the clipboard as though communicating more with Morse Code than words, McSexy adds, "Let me call this prescription in so we can get you out of here sooner than later."

"Sounds good to me."

With a smile and a wink, Nurse McSexy opens the door and vanishes from the room.

As if it's the new normal when I find myself alone, I vigorously scratch my entire body—like a dog covered in fleas. "Just one more hour," I whisper through gritted teeth.

Although my outer discomfort experiences an increase in itch relief due to the scratching, there is an inner disturbance pulsing with the feeling of failure.

I tried, I exclaim silently. I trusted the unknown, but nothing happened. Maybe McSexy isn't supposed to teach me anything. Maybe he just brings me a magazine and I'll be enlightened by what's on page 69 again.

Or not.

*****McSEXY BREAK*****

In college, I jumped in a juniper bush and woke up with a rash that covered my entire body. True story.

MUSIC: Van Halen. You've got to roll with the punches to get to what's real. In other words, sometimes you need to get out of your head and jump into the possibilities of reality. Might as well jump!

Your vote is truly McAppreciated. Muah!

MarilynHepburn.com