Medical droids are a little creepy, but they’re necessary. Every year I go get myself poked, prodded, and probed to have my (admittedly awesome) doctor tell me that I’m in excellent health. Hey, the insurance pays for a visit; might as well take it, right?
This year, though, the ol’ blood samples got an extra treatment. My midi-chlorian count is still not enough to qualify at the Jedi Temple, but everything else checked out ok. I’ve never had to ask a doctor for a spectrum of STD tests before, so that was new.
For that matter, I don’t remember the last time I peed in a cup, either. How much are you supposed to give? Too little, and you have to do it again. Too much, and somebody’s out there with a cup with your name on it wondering why they have to go flush your business. Nobody else has had to flush my business since I got potty trained. It’s about on the same weirdness factor as bringing in a semen sample after my vasectomy. Sharing an elevator that daywas just…yeah, let’s not go there.
The good news is that everything came back negative. I have even managed to avoid the herpes that The X had when we got married. So there, statistics. It could just have easily gone the other way; The X doesn’t generally have very discerning tastes. So just remember, even if you get cheated on, go get tested. Pee in a cup, give a little blood, and make extra sure.
Be safe out there.