My question was simple: which is harder to get in California, medical marijuana or Viagra? [Read part one here.]
Step 3. The Impotence Class
A few days later, I rushed home from work to attend the impotence class. I wanted to make sure I had enough time to get my tuxedo on, because I might as well look impotent. I braced myself for a long, awkward meeting in a room full of old men that didn't want to make eye contact.
The class was in room 2 in the basement of the Kaiser Permanente hospital, the same room as the vasectomy class from last year. That's right, I only go to the hospital for my genitals.
Inside the room were sixteen men, mostly in their 50's. A few were younger, who I regarded as drug-resale entrepreneurs or investigative reporters. Everyone was waiting for the class to begin. One guy had a Kindle, another guy was wearing suspenders. I guess he had a problem keeping his pants up.
This was not the place for small talk. I quietly thanked God that I didn't know anyone in the room.
At 6:06 p.m., no instructor had arrived and I was itching to leave. I guess my fake mustache was wool.
At 6:08, a dozen men and two women entered from behind an accordion barrier and sat down at the far table. They had been waiting in the other part of the divided room, but joined us when they realized we were all there for the same class, which wasn't happening. This broke the ice and everyone started complaining about the lack of a teacher. One guy in particular made it clear that no women were supposed to be in the class, and then made a special effort to tell us that he didn't personally care.
I didn't mind having the women there, as long as they weren't sexy enough to blow my cover.
Time passed. No one showed up. No one knew anything.
After 10 more minutes of waiting, and a call to the hospital operator, it became obvious that no one was going to show up to teach the class. There was cursing.
We filed out into the parking lot, where I realized that impotence touched men from all socioeconomic backgrounds: One of the men drove a Hummer, another piloted a Cummings diesel truck. A third drove a Ford Probe. These were the only penis-related car names I could come up with.
At this point, on the drive home, I was starting to think that it was going to be harder to get Viagra than it was to get marijuana. Definitely.
Step 4. The Urologist
The next morning I awoke refreshed, ready to do whatever I could to get the Viagra. I called the Urology Department and told them what had happened. Straightaway I got an appointment with a doctor, no class required! A bit later I got an apology from the gal in charge of the classes, who said the class would now take place tomorrow night. She also let me know that if the pills didn't work, I could try injections, which she assured me, worked very well.
I hope I never have to try injections.
A few hours after that I got a call from another hospital administrator, letting me know that the rescheduled class would be in one week, in a different room. So, to answer your question, yes, it is possible to have a 28-person clusterFrost without a single boner.
I skipped the class and just went to the doctor's appointment.
The appointment was in the morning. I was nervous about what kind of questions the doctor would ask. I had mentioned to a nurse friend that I was thinking of using the old "anxiety" symptom from my weed examination, but she warned me against it.
"They'll just prescribe you an anti-anxiety medication."
I surely didn't want that. I needed a better story.
When I arrived, I was handed some paperwork. I handed it in and paid $45 for the visit. Already I was at nearly two times the price of a marijuana certification.
In the waiting room, I sat down with a People magazine. As a precaution against waiting room boners, I had painstakingly removed all of the sexy advertisements from the magazine pages. It looked like I was reading a slice of swiss cheese.
You guys don't get waiting room boners?
I was called back by a nurse, who checked my blood pressure. When she announced that my pulse was a little high, I freaked out and ripped the air bladder off of my arm.
"You're a cop!"
No, no I didn't. I played it cool.
I only waited for the doctor for another minute. The doctor actually entered the room with me for the examination! Just like in ye olde times!
The doctor didn't screw around. He asked me why I was there, and when I told him I was trying to obtain better erections, he fired back, "What do you mean, 'better' erections?"
This wasn't going well, so I waved my hand and started from the beginning: "I had started having problems getting an erection..."
"Can you quantify the problem? How often do you have an unacceptable erection?"
"Uh ... well..." I stammered.
He wanted an on-base percentage.
"Like, do you have a problem 2 out of 10 times, or 7 out of 10 times..."
Jesus! Was this guy was trying to bust my balls so they would match my busted penis? Actually, I knew what to say. "Well, I tried three times, and it didn't happen. Then I waited a loooong time before I tried again...."
That's exactly what he needed to hear. "Oooh-kay," he replied.
But I didn't stop.
"My wife went to Europe for three months this summer, and when she got back ... uh, it didn't work."
Now he was my psychologist.
"So she came back?" He queried.
"Yes, that's right. She came back after three months and now I'm having trouble with sex."
"Oh, so she didn't leave you, she just went to Europe and came back?"
"Yes, she just went for work. She came back, but it hasn't worked the same."
He asked if I "got into any bad habits" while my wife was out of town.
"No..." I paused. "Ooh! I bought a 3D TV ... Do you think that could have anything to do with it?"
He considered that for a moment. "It is possible, what are you watching in 3D?"
"Uh, Avatar ... and animated movies."
He countered, "Animal Planet?"
I said no.
"Maybe you are more interested in 3D than E.D."
Nice one doc! We both cracked up at that.
He motioned for me to undo my belt. "I'll take a look."
I actually thought I might get away with a prescription without dropping my pants. No such luck.
He checked my testicles, penis, and a couple spots on my pubic bone. "Cough."
I guess nothing was amiss because he motioned for me to zip it back up.
After that 40-second exam, he let me know that he was going to have me try Levitra.
Yes! Success!
He cautioned me that I should start with half of a pill, and that I could increase that dose when I had a better idea of what to expect. He instructed me to take it about an hour before having sex, and that I shouldn't take Levitra with wine or grapefruit juice. Grapefruit juice can apparently produce the uncontrollable boner situation.
I asked the doctor if that could really happen.
He seemed as skeptical as I was. "I don't know," was his answer.
He told me the pharmacy was kind of busy on Monday mornings, and that it would probably take a while to fill it if I wanted the pills today.
Oh yeah! I wanted them today!
We left the examination room and I was a smiling like an idiot. It worked. A 15-minute doctor's visit had yielded the desired prescription. Achievement unlocked.
I pressed the B1 button in the elevator for the basement pharmacy. It wouldn't go down.
The pharmacy visit went a little less well. My insurance plan had a 50 percent payment schedule for ED drugs, and they preferred to surprise me with the price: $122.30 for a bottle of 20. Damn! That's more than the hooker!
Getting this bottle of Levitra had cost a total of $167.30. This was more than I had expected, but it wasn't enough to darken my mood. I was victorious!
Getting Viagra (OK, actually Levitra) had been a long journey. Would my quest for medical marijuana be as arduous?
Next: The Marijuana Dispensary!
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