Relaxing and strange disease

Oh Lord!
Did you already read it?
Jim wrote about it.
Tenacious M now knows I am married to Jim.
He was really pale when he left the lobby and slightly shuffling then.

To my surprise I still get my early morning Starbucks coffee - without heartshaped chocolates though. To my utmost satisfaction he kept away from me since and I only see him from far when he still haunts the hallways I usually use.
That was a ray of sunlight again today when I came back from clinic duty highly annoyed.

Can you believe that patients really gather their feces from their toilets to bring them here and show them to me? And that was just one incident of today's highlights. I really had to distract myself a bit when I came back - otherwise I feared I'd run amok.
Then there was that child who jarred at my nerves and kicked my cane away when I was about to leave the exam room. These are the days I hate clinic duty even more than usual and have to make everyone else's day rotten to feel better.
I sometimes have some really strange relaxing techniques and so it was no wonder that Jim found me sitting in my chair reading a magazine while a Tourette patient was sitting in my visitors chair cussing, yelling and uttering strange noises.
"Um...", Jim raised an eyebrow and pointed surreptitiously at the man.
I looked up at him. "Hum?"
"Is...is that your patient?"
"No, I borrowed him from 6th floor", I answered lazily and turned a page.
Jim looked blank. "You..." He raised his shoulders. "Why?"
I sucked my lollipop and looked at the article. "It's quite soothing."
"Soothing", Jim repeated with a dull voice.
"Heck fuck you asswipe!", the patient yelled and I sighed and leaned back with an uttermost peaceful expression upon my face closing my eyes.
James cleared his throat and I heard him approach the patient. "You can now go back to your floor, Mr..."
"Turlington", I finished his sentence.
"Mr....Turlington..."
Scuffing sounds, the door opened and closed again and then the warmth near me showed that Jim sat down on my desk right in front of me.
"Greg...sometimes I really can't believe what must be going on in your mind..."
I opened one eye and looked at him. "I just wanted to relax a bit. Clinic duty was more than rotten."
"Relaxing by misusing a Tourette patient? That's highly unethical."
With a sigh I opened my other eye, too and frowned. "Jim, he just sat here."
"...to amuse you."
"No...just to be there and distract me."
"You can't borrow patients to distract you, Gregory!"
I sighed. "Oh, it's Gregory now, hm? I apologize for my rudeness, James Evan."
Jim crossed his arms and looked down at me. "Greg...just think a bit. His family could sue you."
"I did not do him any harm..."
"Oh, c'mon...you know I'm right, you're just too stubborn to give in."
I raised my hands. "Okay. I am sorry. really. I'll never borrow Mr. Turlington again."
"Greg, you won't 'borrow' any patient!"
"I promise."
He could not conceal his smile though, shook his head, arose and locked my door silently.
"Will you tell me what you are up to?", I asked him with a quirk of my eyebrow.
He closed the blinds, turned to me again and approached me with a smile.
"I won't tell you, hun. I'll show you", he whispered and sat down on my lap.
Before I even noticed he unbuttoned my shirt we both were undressed and molten together. I uttered a squeaky moan and looked into Jim's smiling eyes.
"There are so much better ways to relax, don't you think?", he panted and our journey to heaven began.

So I was really relaxed and contented in the afternoon when we Cuddy handed me a strange but fairly easy case. The poor guy did not want to talk to Cuddy though and asked for a male doctor. So it was my turn to show up in exam room 9.
There he sat, blushing crimson and kneading his fingers.
I just sat down opposite to him and leaned my chin on my cane.
Finally he began to speak.
"It points to the side...."
I raised an eyebrow. "What exactly?"
He was obviously wishing to be somewhere else. "My...my...."
"You know what", he then whispered and pointed at his crotch.
"Oh! Your penis!"
"...."
I leaned forward. "Always?"
"No...just...just..."
"Just when erect?"
"God, yes!"

Peyronie's disease ...the poor guy is treated now.