Chapter 14: In Vitro Efforts

Chapter 14

In Vitro Efforts

Steven Gouger followed the white-robed med assistant to the tiny room and tried to ignore the blaring fragrance of isopropyl alcohol. He watched the silent pawn spread a sheet of medical paper across the aqua-colored vinyl cushions. Steven Gouger focused on the gray bun that jerked like a fish bobber as she robotically set the stage. She pivoted and turned the doorknob with her gloved hand and exited the room, slamming the door ever so slightly.

Steven Gouger locked the door and settled settled himself on the starchy white paper. He opened one of the many crisp issues of “Playboy” to the centerfold and placed it on the couch next to him. He liked looking at Hef's girls—who didn't? However he found the dainty lookalikes a little too distant to be employed in a utilitarian manner.

To help him complete his mission, Steven Gouger removed an inactive mobile device from his pocket. The phone capabilities of the phone had never been activated. Steven Gouger used this secret vault to view slide shows of Lauretta's younger sister, Julie, Lauretta's good friend Sherry Cummings, a neighbor's daughter who was a cheerleader at Ole Miss and Lauretta's nineteen year old cousin, Riva.

Steven Gouger would also remove his daily cell phone that contained slides of his wife in various stages of undress. He knew he would later be quizzed on where his eyesight was focused prior to the completion of his duty. He wanted to be able to tell his spouse without hesitation that he was unable to take his eyes off of her in her black negligee stroking her Teddy Bear ever so suggestively. He knew he would make his wife blush and smile.

Steven Gouger briefly reflected on the nature of women. Yes, they were smarter than men but they could never understand men. Then again, why would they want to? With his jeans around his ankles, Steven Gouger started the slide show. Had anyone ever jerked off to an image of his wife? Was it even possible?

The tiny screen overflowed with images of his 22 year old sister-in-law Steven Gouger had lifted off her MyFace page. Julie had been a lifeguard in high school and college and she posted dozens of photos of herself in an array of swimwear. Her tan, wet skin. Her sleek bod. The dirty blond Julie. The fade to brunette Julie. The blond highlight Julie. The bottle blond Julie.

Close but no fiesta. Steven Gouger switched to Sherry Cummings. What exactly made this woman so erotic? The low cut blouse helped but it was her inner confidence that exuded sex through every pore...seconds later it was Wendy Johnson, the cheerleader and seconds later...Riva also had dozens of photos on her MyFace page. She too had been a cheerleader. She too, owned several bathing suits but it would be her graduation photo that would allow Steven Gouger to roll the credits. That heavenly face. So smooth. So gentle. So creamy.

Steven Gouger rested briefly, pulled up his jeans and placed both cells into his pants pocket. He carefully applied hand sanitizer ever so cautious not to disturb the contents of the plastic cup. He glanced at himself in the mirror and walked the cup down the synthetic hardwood hallway where it would be received by an impassive Vietnamese man in a lab coat who would quietly thank Steven Gouger without making eye contact.

On his way home from Music City Steven Gouger darted his old truck in and around and through slower traffic. It was mostly interstate between Vanderbilt and the homestead. The landscape was dreary brown and there were hints of fog here and there.

At 90 miles per hour he reflected once more on the unending nightmare. Initially Lauretta was subject to early stage miscarriages. She was told she might have had a few more miscarriages without even knowing it. Doctors and copays and time and treatment seemed to solve the problem. But Lauretta would not get pregnant.

Along the way, Steven's sperm count had dropped from slightly low to significantly low. And he would find himself in the office of a urologist who would grip his scrotum tightly as he glared at his patient. Dr. Antaramian was new to Mississippi Urology Associates and thus his name did not appear on MUA's website or any of their literature. Had he seen the name Antaramian, Steven Gouger would have sought treatment elsewhere.

Just two weeks prior, the DEA had shut down a pain clinic run by another Dr. Antaramian. The urologist's older brother had been shuffled off to jail and his assets, including his house and vacation cottage, were seized. The clinic had not excessively written pain scripts but but the local office had fallen behind schedule in the prescription abuse department and someone had to take the fall. Besides, Steve Antaramian had been rude to DEA staff.

Peter Antaramian knew that Steven Gouger was a DEA agent and though he did not mention his brother's ruination, he did not hide his contempt. He was rough. He was gruff. He was rude. Steven Gouger still held the opinion that the younger Doctor Antaramian intentionally misdiagnosed his problem. He remained convinced that he had concealed the presence of a varicele. So humiliated by one office visit that Steven Gouger waited a full year to undergo a second opinion. The new doctor was gentler and kinder and took the requisite steps for corrective action.

A degrading surgery was performed and Steven Gouger's sperm count would elevate but not as high as he had hoped. Now Steven and Lauretta took turns driving back and forth to Nashville in hopes of conceiving through artificial insemination. Lauretta had insisted that they sue the urology practice for misdiagnosing the varicele but Steven would have none of it. No amount of money could make him relive his humiliation. Telling his story to a lawyer and then another lawyer and depositions and more depostions and then what?

Steven knew of people who had faked injury and ultimately became crippled. Walking with a cane was no longer optional. And if they played the role of victims of infertility...

Steven's memories would be interrupted by the blue lights of a Tennessee State Trooper in his rear view mirror. His heart raced as he fumbled for his Mississippi State Police badge. He would wait patiently for the trooper to aproach and then wave his courtesy in a manner equivalent to a secret handshake.

Had the snarling trooper not been cooperative, he would have produced his DEA credentials. Both Tennessee and Mississippi issued phony creds to Federales so as to not blow their cover. True to form, the Faberge-reeking pug backed down but not before issuing a slight admonishment.

“Ninety seven? I will extend professional courtesy but you are pushing your luck, sir.”

Steven Gouger promised to slow down and thanked the grimaced officer. It would take him about four hours to get home and it was dark when he pulled into his driveway. In the old days he and Lauretta would have gone to the bedroom and he would remark how the second time always felt better. No more. Infertility was now the elephant in the room and their intimacy was limited to reproductive efforts. They would not want to bother just a few hours after ejaculation.

Tonight the Gougers would sit on the couch and watch “Crime and Justice” reruns until bedtime. They would both remark that even if their dreams were ultimately broken, there was always “Crime and Justice” and for that alone, life was worth living.