My Short and Agonizing Visit to HerpesVille

I don't have herpes, but I do have the Flu.
I just wanted to get that out there so everyone can feel sorry for me. And it's not the bullshit "slight cough/moderate sneezing/sort of a fever for 1 day" flu. No, it's the "high fever for 3 days/throat-tearing coughing/swarm-sneezing" kind of flu.
Anyway, this has nothing to do with the herp, but I just thought that I'd explain my general state of mind at the moment, and also, as previously mentioned the sympathy thing.

So, this post is going to describe in detail my brief visit to what I like to call HerpesVille here in Frozen Hell.

It all began with the night that I went out on Halloween. As everyone knows, Halloween is super fun because it's that special time of year that every girl gets to let her inner (and in my case outer) slut out. So me and my new little friend (I change these on a monthly basis, but I really like this one, so I hope she sticks) dressed up as two goddesses and went out on the town. We ended up at a party, had a fair amount to drink, and naturally I ended up taking some American dude home where we engaged in all sorts of rough'n'fun until the wee hours of the morning. We parted amiably enough when his roommate called him from the afore mentioned party because he couldn't find his pants and needed my gentleman friend's help in locating them. What kind of retard can't find his pants in the morning? And Irish one! That's what kind. Never trust the Irish. Because they'll put a dent in your bathroom door and put you in all kinds of situations where you can get your ass kicked. They're all like Popeye the friendly sailor man, except instead of spinach it's booze, and instead of super strength, it's, um, super retard.

When I got home, still all innocent and doe-eyed, I decided to take a nap. Imagine my totes shock when I wake up to find something not right in my most sacred of sacred places. Yeah, I felt a Dum Dum Dum "blister". I, being a complete and total hypochondriac, immediately think "HERP! » Now don't get me wrong. This ain't the first time that I've mistaken something for herp. This happens to me every couple of years or so. Usually, I handle it pretty calmly. And by calmly, I mean I freak out and run to a doctor, at which point they take one look at whatever it is that's got my panties in a bunch and tell me that it couldn’t 't possibly be herpes because it's on my elbow or something.

But this time, something was different. I'm guessing it's the fact that I'm here in Russia. So this was on a Sunday, and come Monday, I'm thoroughly saturated, and what do I do? The most retarded thing I could have imagined myself doing. I don't go to a doctor. Instead, I call up the last three dudes that I slept with and ask them if THEY have herpes. Yes, I really did that. Including the American that I had just slept with. He couldn't have possibly given it to me but I figured just in case, I should go ahead and include him in on my heart attack (which was now turning into a communal affliction).

Here's how these conversations on the phone went:

Contestant #1 - Blind Diabetic from New Zealand.

-Hey Blank, how you doing? Say, you don't have herpes by any chance, do you? Because I just found something that might be that.
-Oh Jesus P! That's just what I need right now! No, I don't have herpes. So when do you think you gave it to me?
-I gave it to you? Screw you! If anything you gave it to me.
-Well, you slept with that American guy this weekend. He seems dirty. You should call him. He probably gave it to you.

Contestant #2 - Psychopath musician from Russia.
-Hey Blank, how you doing? Say, you don't have herpes by any chance, do you? Because I just found something that might be that.
-Herpes? No, I definitely don't have that. But once you get that all cleared up, please consider me for a permanent position as your Saturday night lover. I'm in the countryside for the weekdays, but I'm here in the city every weekend.
-Seriously? I just told you that I might have herpes. Really?

Contestant #3 - Nice guy from America (Couldn't have possibly given me the herp)
-Hey Blank, how you doing? Say, you don't have herpes by any chance, do you? Because I just found something that might be that.
-Um, no I don't have herpes. I've only slept with two women since I got checked for it 8 months ago, and you were one of them. And uh, I couldn't have given it to you because the incubation period is too short. Can please give me a call after you get tested?


Please note that the only man not completely freaked out by the word "herpes" in this scenario was the Russian. That's how they roll with STD's here in Russia.

Okay, so after doing this completely asinine thing, I went to an expensive VD clinic to get my lady parts checked out. The first thing that I thought was kind of "funny" was that they kept insisting that herpes is not a venereal disease. They don't think of it as an STD here in Russia. They don't even think it's a particularly big deal.
The second thing that happened was that the doctor took one look at it and was like "yeah, that's herpes alright!" And when I said "but couldn't it be something else?" Her reply was "no! This is herpes. We're doing a culture because you're insisting on it, but it's purely perfunctory at this point. I assure you that this is herpes."
Also, she kept asking me what I normally use to treat my herpes. She asked me this twice after I told her that I'd never had it before. Like "what do you normally put on your herpes?" "Lady, I already told you, I've never had herpes before so why and how the hell would I put something on it?" I even asked another doctor in the place if that first doctor is ever wrong and she was like "no, that doctor has been doing this for years, and if she says it's herp, then it's herp."

So, as you can all imagine, I was fairly bummed out by this point. I mean, really bummed out. All I kept thinking of was "Motherfucking Russia gave me Herpes!" Bad enough that it's cold and wet here, but now it's given me a venereal disease. This is bullshit ya'll!

And just as I got used to the idea of living, biking, swimming, and showing with herpes, thanks to Valtrex or whatever, I call this morning to get my "perfunctory" test results back and BAM! it's not herpes. Just like that. I was too relieved to be pissed off about the absolute surety with which that cunt of a doctor was trying to convince me that I had an incurable STD PRIOR to performing the definitive testing.

Anyway, I've done a lot of personal reflecting over the past few (7) days and have come to the conclusion that I'm not letting one more dirty bastard in this country lay a finger on me ever again.

I am, however, going to Iceland for New Years. Iceland is clean and pure, so that's a whole nother matter...

The moral of this story is never believe Russian doctors. Or, don't sleep around. No wait, it's yeah, never believe Russian doctors.