Sherry didn’t get her first colonoscopy when she turned fifty. She put it off.
Did she have one done at 51? No, she did not.
52? No, she did not.
Finally, Sherry scheduled it to be done at 53. She was so nervous when she went in that the nurses asked Joe, a regular patient and good-looking guy (colon cancer ran in his family), to comfort Sherry and tell her it was going to be okay.
Joe had his recliner and warm blanket. Sherry had her recliner and warm blanket. But Joe got up out of his chair and joined Sherry in hers, as in, he climbed into her recliner with her. He told her it would okay.
After the procedures were done and both Joe and Sherry were in recovery, Joe asked his nurse to ask Sherry’s nurse for Sherry’s phone number. Sherry was still groggy from the anesthesia but said okay.
The nurse got Sherry’s numbers off of her chart and gave it to Joe’s nurse, who gave it to Joe.
Then he walked into Sherry’s little curtained-off section, both still in their hospital gowns, and he held her hand.
Joe called Sherry a few days later, and she agreed to dinner. Sherry had only been separated a short while and didn’t know to meet him in a neutral place. She told him to pick her up at home.
When Joe arrived for the date, he asked to see Sherry’s place. She showed him the downstairs and the view off the back porch. Then Joe asked to go upstairs.
Sherry showed Joe the three guest bedrooms.
“May I see the master bedroom?” Joe asked.
Sherry showed Joe the master bedroom. He went over to the bed, climbed up onto it, leaned back and opened up his arms to her.
Sherry kept her cool, smiled, and suggested they head out to dinner.
Joe called a few days later, and Sherry turned him down. Yes, he had helped her through her stressful colonoscopy, but he had come on a little too strong in the bedroom.
Couldda Wouldda Shouldda
Oh, Joe! You might be good-looking, but no woman wants to jump in bed with you when you have invited her to a first date with you for dinner. Dinner first, then two more dates, then she might’ve considered it.