“Hi Corin. I’m the triage nurse here. My name is Marianne.”

“Cool. How are you?”

“Well, thank you. So what brings you here?”

“Well, just a check-up mainly. I’ve been having more sexual partners lately so I thought it’d be good to get tested.”

“So you don’t have any symptoms to mention?”

“Oh, well, there is a couple of sores on the penis.” “The penis”… not “my penis”. It’s medical speak.

“Sores?”

“Yeah just little red spots. I don’t think it’s anything serious though. My doctor told me I had thrush about eight months ago. I figured it was something to do with that, a little recurrence.”

“Hm I see. That’s fine. Go back out to the waiting room, and I’ll get the doctor to call on you. Don’t pass urine in the meantime – they may need to collect a sample.”

I was glad she wasn’t the one to inspect my penis. She was about 60 and thoroughly greyed.

As I sat in the waiting room, I checked out the girls that came in and went out. There was a kind-of cute one that left. She must have been about 28… tattooed bands around her upper arm. Kind of sexy trashy look. As she left, a Korean girl got up and she said “Oh hey girl!” and they hugged. What kind of person runs into her friends at a sexual health clinic… they were probably workers.

“Katrina… born on March 25^th?” The doctor called out. They don’t call out your last name. Katrina had some big-arse titties, and a cute face. I thought if this was anywhere else, I’d love to talk to her.

Lou rang me up while I was waiting. “Hey Corin! What are you doing? I’m in the city!”

“Oh awesome – I’ll see you when I’m done here. I’m just in Carlton.”

“Great! We’ll catch up. What are you doing?”

“I’m uh… heh. I’m at a sexual health clinic.” I thought it was funny, telling my ex-girlfriend that I was getting tested. No one else seemed to be amused though.

“Oh ok.” I realised later she’d misheard me and thought I was at a “facial health clinic”. Whatever that means.

“Corin… born on January 2^nd.”

“Olá.”

I followed Dr. Krystal to her office and took a seat. She was about 28. She had spiked bleached hair everywhere in a sort of dyke style. When she said “sex” I thought she was from New Zilland, but I never asked.

“So… it says here you’ve had three partners in the last three months.”

“Yah.”

“All females or guys aswell?”

“Just girls.”

“Any from overseas?”

“Ah, there was an English girl.”

“And the twelve from the past year? Any from overseas?”

“Ah… hmm…”

“Any from say, South America, Asia, Africa…?”

“Oh… No.” I felt like I was missing out.

“So you have a few sores on your penis?”

“Yeah. Hey do you need a sample, because I really need to pee?”

She laughed. “Sure. Take this cup and fill it halfway. We need the first part of your urine.”

I had been tempted to go to the toilet beforehand and cut it off midstream, just to relieve the pressure. But I knew that there was something different about the first bit of piss that came out. I remember telling my brother:

“You know, Indian yogis drink their own pee. They wake up in the morning, take a piss… The first part they throw away… the second part, they drink. It has an anesthetic effect.”

“Their pee comes in parts in India?”

I half filled the cup.

“So is there any discharge from the penis?”

“Sure, sometimes after I pee, semen leaks out.”

“How do you know it’s semen?”

“Because it looks like semen.”

“Hm, okay. Now,” she pulled back the curtain. I guess they have these things in case anyone bursts in, eager to offer cookies straight from the oven or something. “Take your pants and underwear down to your knees, and sit down. That’s fine, now lay back.”

I lay back and saw the fluorescent lights on the ceiling. “I feel like I’m about to be abducted by aliens.”

She felt my lymph nodes to see if they were inflamed. This would be a kind of pleasant erotic massage in any other circumstance.

“Is this one of the sores you were talking about?” She swabbed it with an elongated cotton swab, with force, and put it in a specimen jar.

“Hm so you are experiencing discomfort. It is quite tender then.”

“Yeah… I figured they’re mainly just from jacking it too much.”

She squeezed my penis. “Just seeing if I can get some of the discharge.”

Hello Dr. Octagon.

“OK, that’s fine. You can get dressed now.”

“Well I got the swabs. It’s probably not herpes, as the sores are tender. You’re not really at risk of HIV, because all your partners are female. But we’ll test for that anyway. By the way, if it turns out you are HIV positive – it’s not the horrible disease of the 80s that it once was. Many people now get treatment and live long and fulfilling lives – just had to give that disclaimer.

“I recommend that you don’t use soap on the genitals. Here’s some information. I’ll prescribe you some lighter wash that you can use, and some contrimazole cream. When you come in again next week we’ll see if that’s helped at all.”

“So you’re not going to refer me to Masturbator’s Anonymous.”

She laughed “No, but if I did… I’m sure you’re not the only who’d need that service.” I think she was speaking from experience.

She said I should come back next week so she could look at my dick again… But I don’t think she phrased it like that.

I got out into the pharmacy. Katrina was sitting down, waiting for her scrip.

“Hey. How are you?” I said.

“Fine…”

I sat down next to her. “Man, it’s kind of bad. I’ve been checking out some girls in here but in the back of my mind I’m like… hmm maybe she’s a worker.”

She laughed nervously.

“See that sign over there… so weird.”

“Southern Regions? What are they saying? People are injecting into their gonads? The last bit is funny too. Like, hey, have some more heroin. Just add some more heroin… Mix it in with your cereal.”

She laughed nervously and hurried away without looking back after she got her scrip. I probably should have kept talking to get her to open up. But hey, I approached a girl at a sexual health clinic… maybe next visit, I can get a phone number.

After I got my moisturising wash and athlete’s foot cream, they took a blood sample. It was a thoroughly enjoyable experience and I recommend anyone in Melbourne to take a visit to the Melbourne Sexual Health Centre. Fun for the whole family.

I especially like them because the test was so easy, I got a pass on everything. Even herpes.  Phew.