Chapter 5 – The Sickness Prescription
The next day, I excused myself with a stomachache to take the day off. Hospital. The familiar smell of antiseptic filled my nostrils, a scent of sterile cleanliness, a stark contrast to the filthy reason that had brought me here. I checked in with Dr. Hoang. Luckily, he had a private office. Privacy was what I needed most right now.
Dr. Hoang, the head of the department, a man in his thirties, tall, with a square face that exuded authority. He sat behind his desk, eyes glued to the computer screen, not even glancing at me when I walked in. A machine in a white coat.
“Hello, Dr. Hoang. I am your old patient, here for a follow-up visit.”
“Medical records.” His voice was flat and emotionless. I timidly pushed the file toward him.
I began to tell. At first, he remained cold, just nodding and taking notes. But when I described my strange physical reactions over the past few days, about Minh Khoi, about my mother, about the feeling of disgust mixed with excitement, his eyes finally left the screen. A flash of surprise appeared. He pushed up his glasses, stared at me, then ordered a series of tests: X-ray, CT.
With the results in hand, I returned to the clinic with a pounding heart. He looked at each film, each number, then looked up, his face in disbelief.
“Unbelievable. In just half a month, a large part of the necrotic nerves have shown signs of recovery. Although there is still a long way to go…”
It felt like a weight had been lifted from my chest. “So… what should I do next, doctor?”
Dr. Hoang leaned back in his chair, his hands clasped together. “I am a doctor. My job is to come up with a treatment plan. Whether your family, including you, will accept it or not is beyond my control.” He paused, looking me straight in the eye. “The current situation shows that this psychological therapy is clearly effective for you. What the internet calls… the ‘cuckold plot’.”
He said the phrase calmly, as if prescribing an antibiotic. “However, this is the first case I have encountered. I cannot guarantee the final outcome.”
“Treatment… protocol?” I stammered.
“That’s right.” He nodded. “You have a cuckolding streak, so keep going with it. It’s good for your recovery. Who knows, you might be fully recovered soon,” he added, his voice even. “But for ethical reasons, this protocol requires the consent of both your mother and father.”
Looking at his serious expression as he uttered those absurd words, I suddenly felt ridiculous. A doctor, a scientist, was prescribing me a sick prescription. I said goodbye to him, said I would go home to “discuss”, and left the hospital in a semi-conscious state.
Back home. Dr. Hoang’s words kept ringing in my ears. Letting my parents come along to hear the treatment plan? Letting my mother have an affair to cure her son? It was absurd. Even I felt disgusted with myself. But it was the truth. It was the only way.
If they agreed? What would happen to this family? My mother, despite her somewhat liberal dress, was still a traditional woman at heart. All these years, she had remained faithful to her duty as a wife. Now, for the sake of her son’s “happiness”, she would betray her father? My head felt like it was about to explode.
Life temporarily returned to normal. I tried to integrate into the class. Minh Khoi, after becoming the English class monitor, was even more loved by my mother, and also acted like a senior, protecting me, not letting anyone bully me. He continued to have “tutoring” sessions with my mother, but only stopped at furtive glances and harmless teasing. He didn’t know that he was just a pawn in my chess game.
Then the opportunity came. Dad announced that he had to go to Europe for a half year of study. Mom was visibly sad, but still tried to smile and encourage her husband. Dad left. The cage door seemed to have opened.
The first night after Dad left, Mom was washing dishes in the kitchen. I took a deep breath and walked in.
“Mom, do you remember Dr. Hoang?”
“Yes, I remember. What’s wrong?”
“He… he contacted me. He said he had a treatment plan for my illness. He wanted to see both of us .”
The clanking of dishes stopped. Mom spun around, eyes wide, disbelief in her ears. “What!? Really? What did he say?”
“He told us to go to the clinic, to talk specifically.”
Mom rushed to hug me, her voice filled with joy. “That’s great! We’ll leave tomorrow! If there’s a way, that would be great!”
She was so happy that she cried. As for me, in my mother’s warm arms, I only felt a cold complexity.