SAMANTHA'S CHRONICLES

Bedroom getaway the perfect crime

Couple arguing
Couple arguing
Image: COURTESY

Oromandibular dystonia occurs when the muscles that move the mouth and jaw are affected by involuntary spasms. Oh my word. They think it was an accident!

They think I bit off his trumpet because of an involuntary spasm. They actually believe that through no fault of my own, my jaw clamped down on his member.

I start laughing. I laugh so hard that my head starts hurting. I have taken blows to my head; I need to get a grip.

 

Oh, blimey. I might just get away with this. The doctor comes back a couple of hours later and I’m ready for him.

“Samantha. Are you well rested? Can you tell me what happened?” he asks.

“Yes, I’m better now,” I respond. “As for what happened … I think it’s my condition. It’s an unwanted muscle contraction that can pull my mouth and tongue in different directions. It’s usually harmless but this time it happened when I was in the middle of … well, you know,” I say shyly, eyes downcast.

“Yes, that’s what I diagnosed you with! Oromandibular dystonia!” he says triumphantly.

“You could tell before examining me?” I ask.

“It was a sensible guess, considering the circumstances, but you’ve just confirmed it.”

I nod. “I’ve had it since I was a young girl.”

 

“Anyone else in your family has it?” he asks.

“My grandmother,” I say, remembering that family history is key in genetic indications for dystonia.

“I would like to do some tests to analyse your blood, urine and cerebrospinal fluid,” he says.

Uh oh. “Why?” I ask.

“Well, you just bit someone’s penis off…” he says.

“Yes, but I also know that my condition has no cure, so how is running tests helpful?”

“It’s true, it can’t be cured, but it can be managed,” the doctor says.

“And it is. With regular injections that I get from my GP,” I respond.

“When was your last shot?” he asks.

“Just under three months ago. I’m due for the next one in two weeks,” I respond.

“Be that as it may, I would like to run independent tests,” he insists.

I lean back into my pillows. “Sure, doctor. Whatever you believe is best.” I pause for a moment then add, “ Such a nice hospital this one, you even treat people without insurance.”

The doctor looks startled. “You have no insurance? You were flown in by a chopper.”

“The chopper was for Chris, not me. They probably felt bad about leaving me behind.”

“Oh. I see… “ he says, looking crestfallen.

His beeper goes off. He reads it and then peers back at me over his low rim glasses. “I have to go. About the tests, will you be able to pay cash for them?” he asks.

“How much?” I ask. “I’m not too sure how I’m even paying for this room. I didn’t ask to be brought here, I was unconscious.”

“Well, yes, of course…. Eh, um…in that case, perhaps the tests are not that necessary,” he says. “How’s the pain?”

“Better now,” I say. He looks relieved that he doesn’t have to up my medication, hence my bill.

He practically runs out of the room. I’m pretty sure that I will be discharged within the hour. There’s nothing that hospitals are more allergic it to than the words “no insurance”.

I’m feeling good right now. I have my ‘Get out of jail free’ card. A doctor that has diagnosed me for something I do not have and a hospital that will not refute his diagnosis because I have no insurance. It’s the perfect crime. I have gotten away with it!