I ordered my iPad (my first iPad) online with the promise it would be delivered on the same day it was going to be available in the Apple Store. I may be an Apple fanboy, but I refuse to wait in line. Mostly because I'm sick of being included in anonymous, neck-down crowd shots on the evening news. I don't care if it's a puff piece about the latest trendy gadget or an exposé on America's obesity epidemic, just stop it.
As the final days of March slowly passed, my excitement intensified. Like everyone else in those early, naïve days of 2010, I had no idea what an iPad was or what I would do with one. I only knew I had to have it.
I don't know if I was attempting to distract myself from tracking my iPad's glacial FedEx progress from China, or if it was some sort of psychological transference of my iPad excitement. Perhaps it was simply the arrival of Spring that had my sex drive kicked up a notch or two. I apologize for skipping over a lot of impertinent details here, but thus began a chain of events which led to my unboxing my new iPad in a hospital room. Three years ago today.
The only (questionably) pertinent information I'll share is that I'm strictly a top. Except for maybe once every three years or so. I'm not sure what got into me that balmy April 2nd... scratch that. I know what got into me. I just don't know how I broke it.
|We can rebuild it... we have the|
It didn't help. Even in the furthest reaches of the waiting room with my fingers in my ears, I could still hear JB's guttural shriek. A man in scrubs walked through the double doors by the nurse's desk and as the doors swung open, the howl from within reverberated unabated through the waiting room. The doors closed then opened, then closed again, creating a sort of surreal doppler effect.
The nurse at the desk asked the man in the scrubs, "What on earth are you doing to that poor guy?". The man just shrugged and said, "I know, right?"
I watched the look of alarm on the faces of the people in the crowded waiting room. At least three of them, one gingerly holding his bandaged arm, decided they were just going to walk it off and left the ER.
I lost count of how many doctors examined JB that weekend, but each visit began with him or her flipping through JB's file and asking, "So... what do we have here?" I began to wonder if they recorded anything in those files, or if they just wanted to hear the story told in person. It was difficult enough the first time having to explain in detail how I wrecked JB's penis. With my ass. How, during an afternoon of playful, adventurous intimacy, our escalating passion inexplicably segued into the prom scene from Carrie.
Now imagine having to tell that story at least twenty times to a parade of random strangers.
Reactions ranged from clinically detached to mildly amused to visibly disturbed. One doctor actually suggested that it would be prudent for us going forward to "switch places". I asked if this would be the same recommendation he'd give to a straight couple in this situation. He admitted he wouldn't, and I suggested he treat JB accordingly. I didn't see the need to dilute my moment of righteous indignation by mentioning that switching places was what got us there in the first place.
The medical consensus was that a blood vessel in JB's prostate ruptured during ejaculation. Just a teeny-tiny blood vessel, not a major artery as I first guessed having experienced the prom carnage first hand. "It's really very common, I see it all the time," one doctor explained. "Nothing to be too concerned about." JB apologized for not sharing the doctor's nonchalance while he peed red through a tube into a bag. Only the way he said it was more colorful.
|As JB watched TV and waited for the nurse to come and|
remove his catheter, I turned my new iPad over and over
just to watch the "plug into iTunes" picture reorient itself.
As we waited for the doctor to make her rounds, I opened the box, peeled away the protective plastic and marveled at the beautiful black slate of glass in my hands. I turned it on and waited for it to start up. It showed a picture indicating it needed to be plugged into iTunes before going any further.
Unlike later iPad models which are ready to go out of the box, that first iPad needed to be plugged into a computer and set up using iTunes before it could be used. JB was far from impressed, but I think he was just being grumpy.
"Is that an iPad? How do you like it?" the doctor asked as she held JB's urine bag up to the light.
"I love it!" It was an educated guess.