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This is a love story, so it's long and not full of sex. But this is a prequel to Sister Celeste: Snake Charmer. You will have a better understanding of Celeste's career if you read that first. I'm writing from the POV of a woman, which I don't feel particularly comfortable with, but you can be the judge of whether she is plausible.Chapter 1I hadn't been practicing long when Dr. F showed a troubling case file to me. Her first erectile dysfunction patient had stopped getting testosterone injections after his third and had not visited the clinic for over 15 months. One of her other patients mentioned that Mr. B, who is her neighbor, had become a hermit after his wife died a year earlier. Dr. F thought I might have some insight on how to get him to resume his treatments.I called Mr. B on the phone and after I told him who I was and what my medical specialty was, I told him that his doctor and I were concerned that he might not understand the importance of his decision to stop getting testosterone replacement therapy. He sounded very depressed when he explained that his wife had died not long after he started treatments and that he hadn't needed an erection since then. I explained that many other health problems could result from living with abnormally low T levels and that he should consider resuming them.It's difficult in cases like these to diagnose the underlying cause of depression. It could be due to grief or it could be a symptom of low T or it could be just ordinary clinical depression, so his negativity could be traceable to a very treatable condition. He made an excuse about having to drive so far to get his injections, but I interrupted him and said that his objections might be a symptom of low T and that it was my advice that he have at least one injection to see if his attitude about them changes. I looked up his address and recognized that it was on a road that I passed when I drove home from that clinic, so I offered to visit him and give him an injection.*quot;Well, if you can find the place, I'd be surprised.*quot;Clearly he didn't understand the advances of MapQuest and GPS navigation, because I quickly found a route to his home. *quot;I'll be there at 6 PM,*quot; I bursa escort said and I hung up before he could object.When I drove down the road to his address, I entered a forest. As this was November and after the Daylight Savings Time change, it was already quite dark before the forest made it even darker. I drove past his driveway twice before I confirmed that he actually did live a mile from his nearest neighbor. I almost got too scared of the whole gloomy backwoods situation but after going down his drive a short way, I could see an address on a tree to confirm I was on the right two-track and I could see a faint light in the distance. I drove for another 1/4 mile before I pulled into a yard with a large totally dark house on one side of the driveway and a small dimly lit log cabin on the other. I could also see other buildings and next to the cabin was an old Jeep. I parked next to it and wondered what I had gotten myself into. People disappear without a trace out here in the sticks, I thought.I knocked on the door and it was answered by a large man holding a large glass of red wine. He was at least 6'4*quot; and easily weighed 230 lbs. The height was right for Mr. B, but he looked over 40 lbs heavier than his file indicated. His shirt was straining against the buttons at his paunch and loose around his shoulders and arms. His thinning gray hair was long and unkempt and his face and neck had a five day stubble. He looked upset and morose at the same time. If I wasn't sure that he'd made the token effort of bathing and putting on clean clothes for my visit, I probably would have left.*quot;You found me,*quot; he said glumly. *quot;I was going to tell you not to bother but you hung up on me. I called the Doctor to chew her a new asshole, but she convinced me to listen to you for five minutes, starting now.*quot;*quot;Mr. B, you're smart enough to realize that you've let yourself go to pot since your wife died and you stopped your treatments. At this rate, you'll be dead long before your time. I'm sorry for your loss, but I doubt your wife would have wanted that. If you'll agree to one injection, you'll either feel much better and slip out of this slide or you won't, but bursa escort bayan at 55 years old, you've got your golden years ahead of you and you should be mature enough to understand that a hormonal imbalance is likely to be as much a cause of your decline as your grief.*quot;*quot;Dr. F said you wouldn't pull any punches, but you don't know what you're offering. If I accept that one injection, in a half hour, I'll want a woman very badly and there won't be one here. Then I won't be able to fall asleep for the next 12 hours. Then I'll be cranky for the next two days. Then I'll just go back to being weak and flabby. I'm dying anyway. My heart condition will get me before I'm 70, and my next 15 years don't look all that worthwhile from here.*quot;My mind was in hyper-drive now. The sleeplessness and crankiness were indications that the wrong synthetic hormone was being injected, but he would likely think I was just trying to bamboozle him with an excuse if I told him that. I needed to hook him with something before I tried to sell a review of his therapy. I took a big chance and said, *quot;I can still be here in a half-hour and for the next two hours after that.*quot;That stopped him. He understood what I was offering. Now it was a put-up or shut-up situation for both of us, but the ball was in his court.*quot;How much will that cost?*quot;I've got him now! *quot;Mr. B, you should understnd that I am not a prostitute. I'll do the same things a prostitute does, but so will a wife or girlfriend. I'm a physical therapist with some unique training. This is my specialty. I fix broken dicks and that requires test driving them.*quot; That brought a hint of a smile to his face and that was my first good sign. *quot;My fee is $120 per session and I've got a moral code, an ethical code and a legal code that I have to accomodate. There will be rules, but from what you've described, I think your prescription needs adjustment. What works for most other men is not working for you. Sometimes a little experimentation is required. If you give up without trying newer medicines and different dosages it will be opportunities missed.*quot;*quot;What are these rules you mentioned?*quot;*quot;Well the first rule is that I escort bursa have to get approval from your Doctor to try a different synthetic. Do I need to stand out here on your porch to do that?*quot;*quot;Well, if you want to use a cell phone, you probably don't get a signal here. You can tell me the rest of the rules as we go up the hill.*quot;I checked my cell phone and he was right, no signal. *quot;Can't I use your phone?*quot;*quot;I'm betting that Dr. F won't accept an after hours call from a number she doesn't recognize.*quot;He had me there. His number would not be on her associate list. I could try, but I had to show that I could trust him and that his doctor would accept a call from me. *quot;Well, I guess we'll go up this hill then.*quot;He set down his wine glass and threw on a jacket and went toward the Jeep. Before he got in, I asked how much wine he had drunk tonight.*quot;Two sips. I have one glass every night.*quot;So, I climbed in the passenger side and he started the motor. I thought to myself that he could have a shovel in the back and I could end up under a mound of dirt in the woods, but I had put on a brave face and if I took it off now, I would lose him.He drove on a trail that was even narrower and rougher than his driveway and we were soon heading up a steep hill. My rules were simple and he didn't seem to have a problem with them. Condom, no oral, no anal, I wear exam gloves, I'm on top. It's the I'm on top part that most often causes problems. Most older guys are just programmed to *quot;make love*quot; a certain way. I told him it was to help me get information, but it's just as much a matter of self preservation. If I'm on top, I'm less vulnerable to the unpredictability of hormone reactions. At least that's what I thought.A clearing soon appeared and in the far distance I could see the red lights of cell towers. I could also see more stars than I was accustomed to seeing because he switched off the headlights and it was incredibly dark. I got out of the Jeep to get some privacy and used the cell phone screen as a flashlight to guide me. I found a path and to my surprise, it lead right to a picnic table. I sat on that and called Dr. F on her direct line. She answered her cell right away. She warned me that his heart damage was a congenital weak wall condition and was complicated by Wolfe-Parkinsons-White Syndrome. It was almost certain and that one day, most likely before he was 70, his heart would just open up and spill his plood into his chest cavity.