While my attempt to stimulate Drew’s sexual imagination proved a success earlier in the week, I was now pondering something that could either prove a complete success or a failure of grave circumstances. In all of my years as a doctor I had fortunately never been the victim of a malpractice suit and was hopeful that in my lifetime I would never be privy to the arduous process of legal proceedings.

And yet, a decision had to be made in regards to an out of court settlement about my suit against Dr. Granville and the clinic this very morning.

“Are you going to take their offer?” Asked Drew as I helped him sit up in bed, handing him his morning juice.

“I don’t know.”

“You know, you don’t have to take the entire gay and lesbian rights movement upon your shoulders in order to make yourself feel better.”

“We know what he’s done to me and he should pay.”

“And he will, gladly.” Said Drew, pausing. “We’re going to have some medical bills coming in soon--- some very hefty ones, I’m sure. It’s money we could use.”

“Drew, this isn’t about money.” My position in life had suddenly made me very angry as I paced in front of the bed. “I’m rich. We don’t need the money.”

“We might…need the money.”

The way Drew said it; it was clear to me what he meant. “You think I won’t be able to get another job at another hospital? At another clinic?” I asked, my stomach in knots.

“No, I’m not saying that.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“That perhaps there will be some downtime between jobs and with me not working and our mortgage and now my medical bills, there could be some problems.”

I was silent. I didn’t know how to respond to his statement of truth. “So therefore I should be the grateful little dog and roll over, take the cash, and keep quiet? Do you know what he’s done to me, Drew?”

“He hasn’t done anything to you, Eric. You have. YOU’RE angry; YOU’RE upset--- because for so long you lived in the closet and now that you’re suddenly ‘out,’ you have an opportunity to do something, to stand up. Well, the bottom line is right now it’s the last thing we need. Sometimes you have to pick what battles you’re willing to lose in order to win the one you want.”

“This is the one.”

“It’s nothing.”

Drew looked at me and I could tell what he meant. Here was my husband, a young man, lying in bed. In that moment nothing seemed important except for him; except for US--- and for Drew to get better.

In a strange way, I knew he was right. Our home was already strained with the burden of Drew’s accident and his rehabilitation. Suddenly a wheelchair ramp being constructed on the front of the house was a reality I didn’t want to witness. And no lawsuit against a son-of-a-bitch homophobic boss would be able to change that.

I gently leaned over and kissed my husband goodbye, Drew’s glorious blue eyes staring me down. I left the room in silence, knowing I had a decision to make.