Horizontal Lives

True Tales of the Infamous Courtesan: Persephone N. Hades and her Horizontal Life underground. How she got there, her mis-adventures and her struggle to re-surface.

Sunday, May 01, 2005

My Leprechaun Doctor and Me


If you haven’t been following, I don’t see M.D’s in my business. But I came down with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome and was forced to see a Doctor in my ‘above ground’ life.

A handsome Irishman who used to be a Priest in Ireland, still sporting a thick musical Brogue, he came to America, became a Doctor and either way, is still gay.

He came through recommendation from my Therapist and turned out to be not only an extraordinary Medicine Man but also a very witty Human Being who I adore madly and call my Leprechan doctor.


Three months earlier:
I’m on a vacation in the Caribbean. At low tide I venture far out into the middle of the Ocean to sit on a sand bar where I fall asleep naked only to be awoken by an atypical high tide moving in and a storm about to break overhead.

Making my way back to the shore, I am grabbed by a forceful current and slammed into the pointy end of the spiral shaped shell of a very startled snail. The screw-like tip of the shell bores into my hip above my right bum.

I can’t pull it out in the water as it is in deep to my hipbone and yanking it out may bring blood, which I am almost positive, is not a good thing to do in the middle of the Ocean. I apologise profusely to the snail and his family as I un-suck him from his rock.

Together we walk, me barefoot holding onto his shell as it protrudes out of my butt, and he, his little gummy feelers panicking in the breeze.

Once in the shower, I manage to unscrew him from my flesh and place him in a bucket of salt water. I bandage my wound and the next day, return him to his home where I can only pray he is now the hit of the rock, having such a good adventure to tell of.

I return to New York and head directly into the Office of my new Doctor—the Leprchan from Ireland—who has only met me once before to draw my blood.


(Don’t worry. I’ll translate.)


Leprechan Doctor: (Removing the homemade bandage from my hip) Thet goes rether dayp. (That goes rather deep.) Ahl the weh to the bone. (All the way to the bone.)

Oh Lawd. (Oh Lord)

What heppend to ya then? (What happened to you then?)


Me: Nothing. I just got stabbed by a snail is all.


LD: Hmm. So ay se thay’r moovin fahstar these days. (So I see they’re moving faster these days)


One month later:
LD: Ya hev wats cahld Chroeneek Fahteeg Syndrome. Stend hair. Put yur hahnds hair. Okay. Nehw bend ovah, leeft yur skahrt end drop yur nikers.

(You have what’s called Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. Stand here. Put your hands here. Now bend over, lift your skirt and drop your knickers.)


Me: Hey now. I usually charge a lot of money for that!


LD: Well tehday yull be pehin may.

(Well today you’ll be paying me.)


Me: We’ll see. We’ll see. It’s my job in life to give Doctors a hard time.


LD: Bay cahrfol. Ay’ll cahl aht the snehls on ya. (Be careful. I’ll call out the snails on you.)


Me: Oh you are a (ARGH! OW!) a funny man. You better hope I don’t get better to fast or you’ll miss me I’m pretty sure.


LD: If ya didn git better, Ay woodnt bay doin’ may job. (If you didn’t get better, I wouldn’t be doing my job)


Me: And if you didn’t miss me, I wouldn’t be doing mine.


A few days ago:
Me: (hands on the examining table, standing bent over with my dress up and my knickers down, bracing myself for the weekly needle of my B12 shot) You know you’re the only Doctor I see.


My Leprechaun Doctor: Am I now?


Me: You are. Argh!


LD: Just a little mar, and thar, that’s it. Su, air ya feelin a bit better in general? (So, are you feeling a bit better in general?)


Me: (pulling up my panties) I am. I really am.


LD: Air ya gitting’ mar slip? (Are you getting more sleep?)


Me: No but I’m doing what you said and staying true to my vampire nature.


LD: Ay sed that did ay? (I said that, did I?)


Me: Ya did. Ya did.


LD: And what did ay seh? (and what did I say?)


Me: Ya sed some pipple air jus naht craychers and air bayter slippin a gudt parshun uv thuh marnin end goin’ ta bid letter in the eeven.

(You said some people are just night creatures and are better sleeping a portion of the morning and going to be in the evening?)


LD: End Ay’m guessin’ ay sed it just thet way too, eh? (and I’m guessing I said it just that way too, eh?)


Me: You’re laughing. Admit it. Ay’m yur fevret payshunt. (I’m your favorite patient)


LD: Ahl me payshunts air spayshall. Ay alwes say, ‘yur better ‘en some en wers then oethers, end thets ahl ya cen hoep ta bay.

(All my patients are special. I always say, ‘you’re better than some and worse than others and that’s all you can hope to be.)


Me: Or you can work to be Better and love the Worse so the Worse’ll get Better.


LD: Goodness. Hev ya tawt a goin’ in ta the Clar-gee? (Have you ever thought of going in the Clergy?)


Me: Do you think they’d have me? One of my clients says I should run for Public Local Politics.


LD: Dus hay now? Hmm. Well, ya cud yuse that as yur Slogan. (Does he now? Hmm. Well, you could use that as your Slogan.)


Me: What?


LD: Wark ta bee better and luv the warse so the warse’ll get better. (Work to be better and love the Worse so the Worse will get better.)


Me: Everyone is coming up with slogans for me this week.


LD: Yu sed it farst thoe. (You said it first though.)


Me: Wanna know the other one? 'Just get fucked and be happy'.


LD: (laughing) Thet’d be qwayt a shahker to Emairiken Pole-itics. Ay think yu’d do better with soemthin’ lake thet een Ayerlend.

(That’d be quite a shocker to American Politics. I think you’d do better with something like that in Ireland.)


Me: You’re probably right. Would you vote for me?


LD: Ay bilayve ay wood. (I believe I would)


Me: I’d vote for you too.


LD: Gud. Nehw way just nayd oor oen Cuntri.

(Good. Now we just need our own Cunt-tree)


Me: (Laughing very hard)


LD: Why r ya larfin soo? (Why are you laughing so?)


Me: Just with your Leprechaun accent, it sounded you like said we needed our own Cunt-tree! And I suppose we all do.


LD: Yu got qwayt a maynd werkin’. (You got quite a mind working)


Me: I write about you on my blog you know? I wrote about the Snail fiasco.


LD: Thet wuz qwayt an aypesode. How air thay nehw? (That was quite an episode. How are they now?)


Me: Who? The snails?


LD: Air ya stayn aht a thar way? (Are you staying out of their way?)


Me: They got me on the run.


LD: Cairfahl then. (Careful then)


Me: I’ll see you next week. Thanks. Are you going to miss me?


LD: Ay truleh behlayv ay will. A bit unpraydicktable ya’r. Kips may gaysun.

(I truly believe I will. A bit unpredictable you are. Keeps me guessing.)


Me: Then ayv dun may jobe!

(Then I’ve done my job!)


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