THE MORNING AFTER
By germancowboy
A Gynecologist on Preparing for a Vampire — and Why the Ache Isn’t Always Physical Dr. Evelyn Hart is a respected gynecologist, a longtime VamFem.com member, a devoted reader of Vampire Dating Magazine, and one of the comparatively small number of women who has heard the selection chime more than once. Four times, in fact. Four different vampires. Her last selection was almost a year ago. Since then, she has treated women who arrived in her office exhausted, euphoric, frightened, embarrassed, sore, confused—and occasionally desperate to know when they might feel normal again. The answer, according to Dr. Hart, depends entirely on what they mean by normal. There is nothing remotely gothic about Dr. Evelyn Hart’s office. No black candles. No burgundy velvet. No silver goblets tucked mischievously between anatomy textbooks. There is polished pale wood, soft lighting, framed medical credentials, a discreet anatomical model on one shelf, photographs from medical conferences, two awards from women’s-health organizations—and, if you look carefully enough, a framed cover of Vampire Dating Magazine leaning against a stack of journals beside her desk. It is signed. I noticed it almost immediately. Dr. Hart noticed me noticing it. “Oh, go ahead,” she said, settling into her chair and crossing one beautifully tailored leg over the other. “You’re going to ask eventually.” “You have a signed issue of our magazine in your office.” “I have thirty-seven issues of your magazine in my office.” “Thirty-seven?” “The others are at home.” She smiled. Dr. Evelyn Hart is forty-one, although photographs make her look younger, with dark auburn hair falling just beyond her shoulders, an immaculate cream blouse beneath her white coat and heels sufficiently elegant that I briefly wondered whether she had selected them specifically because Vampire Dating Magazine was coming to photograph her. She admitted later that she had. “I’m a fan,” she said. “I never claimed otherwise.” That may be something of an understatement. Dr. Hart joined VamFem.com seven years ago. She has been chosen four times. She remembers every date. Every hotel. Every dress. Every perfume. Every word spoken immediately before each bedroom door closed. And, she admitted only after some encouragement, the exact number of days since her last selection. We will come back to that. First, however, the doctor wanted to talk about something considerably less romantic. Bodies. “WOMEN PREPARE FOR THE VAMPIRE. THEY FORGET TO PREPARE THE WOMAN.” VDM: You’ve treated women after VamFem encounters? DR. HART: Many. VDM: Many? DR. HART: Enough that I no longer look surprised when somebody sits down, avoids eye contact for thirty seconds and finally says, “Doctor, this is going to sound ridiculous.” She laughed. DR. HART: Usually I know what comes next. VDM: What kinds of problems are they having? DR. HART: Most aren't having what I would call medical problems. They are having consequences. There is a difference. Muscle soreness. Fatigue. pelvic discomfort. Irritation. Dehydration. Sleep deprivation. Occasionally minor bruising. Sometimes they simply feel as though they completed the most demanding workout of their lives without having trained for it. She raised one finger. DR. HART: And before somebody quotes that line out of context, I am not recommending training. Apparently, people have tried. Dr. Hart has seen women radically increase their exercise routines after joining VamFem.com . Others attempt what she delicately calls “specialized preparation.” There are online forums promoting supplements, stretching regimens, numbing products and routines supposedly guaranteed to allow someone to “keep up” with a vampire. She disapproves of nearly all of them. Strongly. DR. HART: You are preparing for a date. You are not preparing for the Olympics. VDM: Some of our perma-girls might dispute the distinction. She laughed so hard that she removed her glasses. DR. HART: Fair point. Then the physician returned. DR. HART: Rest. Eat. Hydrate. Don't starve yourself because you want your stomach flat in some absurd dress. Don't spend six hours exercising the day before. Don't deliberately dehydrate yourself. Don't take medication you don't normally need because somebody online says it will make the evening easier. And please do not put numbing agents anywhere simply because you are worried about discomfort. VDM: Why? DR. HART: Because pain is information. You don't improve safety by eliminating your ability to recognize what your body is telling you. That statement, more than anything else she said during the clinical portion of our interview, may deserve repeating. Pain is information. Being chosen does not suspend human anatomy. THERE IS NO STANDARD VAMPIRE NIGHT Dr. Hart knows this from considerably more than medical textbooks. Her first vampire was gentle. Her second, she told me with a smile that instantly betrayed the fan beneath the physician, was “considerably less interested in pacing herself.” Her third kept her until nearly noon. Her fourth gave her the least physically demanding night of the four—and the most difficult aftermath. That surprised me. VDM: You keep describing the encounters as different, but women almost universally describe them as extraordinary. Is there actually a physiological reason for that? Evelyn smiled. DR. HART: There are probably several. VDM: Such as? She hesitated. DR. HART: This is where the medical explanation starts sounding suspiciously like advertising for VamFem.com . VDM: We'll take the risk. THE BODY IS ALWAYS TALKING DR. HART: People reduce it to technique. That's far too simple. She leaned forward. DR. HART: Female anatomy is complicated. Not mysterious. Complicated. Muscles, nerves, blood flow, pelvic-floor response, changes in sensitivity, involuntary tension and relaxation, the autonomic nervous system. Your body is constantly communicating information whether you're consciously aware of it or not. VDM: And vampires can read that? DR. HART: Apparently much better than we can. According to Hart, vampires appear unusually sensitive to physiological changes most humans barely notice. Breathing. Heart rate. Skin temperature. Circulation. Muscular tension. Fatigue. The tiny involuntary changes that occur when someone becomes anxious, comfortable, overstimulated or relaxed. DR. HART: I don't know precisely what they sense. Vampires I've spoken with call it “listening.” That's probably as accurate a word as any. VDM: Listening to what? DR. HART: You. “SHE HAS LIVED IN THAT ANATOMY” DR. HART: And there is another advantage people rarely talk about. VDM: They're women. She nodded. DR. HART: Exactly. She immediately held up a hand. DR. HART: That does not mean one woman automatically understands every other woman's body. Obviously not. If that were true, my profession would be considerably easier. She smiled. DR. HART: But a female vampire begins with something important. She has lived in female anatomy herself. She understands many of the sensations from the inside before she ever begins interpreting someone else's from the outside. Menstrual changes. Hormonal fluctuations. Pelvic tension. Sensitivity. Discomfort. Fatigue. Arousal. The peculiar frustration of knowing that something feels different while not immediately being able to explain exactly how. DR. HART: That's the foundation. Then give her heightened senses. Then give her decades—or centuries—of watching women respond. VDM: Experience. DR. HART: Knowledge. She corrected me immediately. DR. HART: Experience means you've done something many times. Knowledge means you understand what you're observing while you're doing it. VDM: And that knowledge gives her an advantage? DR. HART: Knowledge used correctly is power. DR. HART: Imagine someone who understands the anatomy exceptionally well, but more importantly understands when your anatomy is responding. She paused. DR. HART: That's the difference. “SHE KNEW BEFORE I DID” VDM: Did you experience that yourself? Evelyn laughed. DR. HART: Four times. VDM: I meant specifically. DR. HART: I know what you meant. Her second encounter was apparently the one that made the phenomenon impossible for the physician in her to ignore. DR. HART: She knew when I was becoming tired before I admitted I was tired. She knew when I needed her to slow down. She knew when I didn't. She knew when I was nervous, when I was pretending not to be nervous, and when the nervousness disappeared. VDM: How? DR. HART: That's the question every woman asks afterward. She thought for a moment. DR. HART: There were times when she changed what she was doing before I consciously realized I wanted anything changed. VDM: And as a gynecologist? DR. HART: Irritatingly impressive. DR. HART: She didn't understand my body because she was psychic. My body was constantly giving her information—and she knew how to listen. DR. HART: You leave thinking the extraordinary part was what she did. A few days later you realize the extraordinary part was how completely she understood what to do, when to do it, and when not to. VDM: And yet you said your fourth encounter was the most difficult afterward. DR. HART: Emotionally, yes. VDM: Why? For several seconds, she considered the question. DR. HART: Because the body and the mind don't necessarily recover together. Her first encounter left her exhausted for almost two days. The second left muscles aching that she claims she had not realized possessed the ability to ache. The third resulted in what she describes as “an extremely educational relationship with my bathtub.” The fourth? Physically, she was nearly normal the following evening. Emotionally, she says it took considerably longer. DR. HART: That's something women aren't prepared for, and nobody talks about it enough. THE FIRST MORNING Personal photograph courtesy of Dr. Evelyn Hart. The popular image of the morning after a vampire encounter tends to be romantic. Sunlight behind hotel curtains. A woman disappearing beneath Egyptian cotton. Room service arriving at noon. A vampire looking completely composed while the human woman attempts to remember whether her legs have always felt that far away. Some of that image is apparently accurate. Dr. Hart smiled when I mentioned it. DR. HART: There is absolutely a moment when you wake up and think, “What happened to me?” VDM: Medically? DR. HART: Medically, emotionally, spiritually, geographically— She laughed. DR. HART: Everything. But exhaustion is only the beginning. There is also exhilaration. Dr. Hart describes the first day after each of her encounters as almost unreal. She would be tired, sometimes profoundly so, yet simultaneously energetic in a way she found difficult to describe. Colors seemed brighter. Food tasted better. Music became emotional. She caught herself smiling for no reason. And she remembered. Constantly. Not merely the bedroom. The elevator. A hand against the small of her back. Something whispered during dinner. The particular way her vampire had looked across a table. A laugh. A kiss. The moment the hotel door closed. The way the room looked at three in the morning. Then five. Then seven. DR. HART: Everybody assumes you go home and sleep for two days. Sometimes you do sleep. But the moment you wake up, you're back there. VDM: Remembering? DR. HART: Reliving. She corrected me deliberately. That distinction matters to her. THE RUSH The second and third days are often even stranger. Dr. Hart calls it the rush . She is careful not to pretend there is a single scientifically established mechanism behind it, and she dislikes the habit of attributing every unusual emotion around vampires to mysterious biology. Some of it, she believes, may simply be the result of an extraordinary experience combined with exhaustion, adrenaline, anticipation and intense emotional stimulation. Whatever the explanation, she has experienced it four times. So have enough of her patients that she recognizes the pattern. For several days, they feel magnificent. Confident. Attractive. Desired. Almost invincible. One patient told her she walked into work Monday morning wearing a dress she had owned for five years and suddenly felt as though every person in the building was looking at her. Another reorganized her entire apartment. Another went shopping and purchased clothing she would never previously have dared to wear. Another simply kept smiling. DR. HART: She sat right there. Dr. Hart pointed toward the chair opposite her desk. DR. HART: She was worried because she couldn't stop smiling. Imagine coming to your gynecologist and saying, “Doctor, I think something's wrong with me because I'm too happy.” VDM: What did you tell her? DR. HART: Enjoy Tuesday. VDM: Tuesday? The smile disappeared. DR. HART: Because Wednesday eventually comes. WHEN WEDNESDAY COMES This, according to Dr. Hart, is the part women almost never anticipate. The aching gets better. The exhaustion passes. You return to work. Your appetite normalizes. The hotel disappears into photographs and receipts. Your dress goes back into the closet. And for a few days, you have lived inside the memory. You haven't merely remembered the night. You've improved it. Repeated it. Reconstructed conversations. Imagined what you might have said differently. Replayed certain moments until you can almost feel them happening again. Perhaps you imagine what would happen if she chose you a second time. Perhaps you picture another hotel. Another dress. Another chime. Perhaps you begin wondering whether that unusually long look she gave you in the elevator meant something. Then something changes. Not dramatically. Sometimes it happens while brushing your teeth. Sometimes while driving. Sometimes while scrolling through your phone. And one thought arrives. She may never choose me again. Dr. Hart stopped speaking for several seconds after saying it. The room became unexpectedly quiet. DR. HART: That's the moment. VDM: The difficult one? DR. HART: That's when the night ends. Not when the vampire leaves. Not when the hotel door closes. Not when you finally sleep. The night ends several days later, when your mind accepts that the experience has become something that happened rather than something that is still happening. And then comes the comparison. “ORDINARY BECOMES VERY DIFFICULT” I asked Dr. Hart a question that produced the longest silence of our interview. VDM: What about dating afterward? She looked toward the window. DR. HART: That's complicated. VDM: Men? DR. HART: Tried. VDM: Women? Another pause. DR. HART: Tried. She smiled, but there was nothing particularly amused about it. DR. HART: Perfectly attractive people. Intelligent people. Kind people. People I would absolutely have been interested in before. VDM: Before VamFem? DR. HART: Before hearing the chime. That difference is important. Dr. Hart does not claim ordinary human intimacy becomes impossible. She insists it would be irresponsible to tell women that. But she admits that her own expectations changed. Radically. A perfectly pleasant dinner felt merely pleasant. An exciting kiss felt like an exciting kiss. A beautiful woman could still be beautiful. A handsome man could still turn her head. The problem wasn't that human partners suddenly became incapable of intimacy. The problem was comparison. Humans listened to what she said. A good partner noticed what she did. The vampires seemed to notice what her body was doing before Evelyn herself had completely understood it . But somewhere inside her mind, comparison had begun before she even realized she was doing it. Not merely physical comparison. Presence. Intensity. Attention. The sensation of sitting opposite somebody who could have chosen almost anyone and had selected you . The almost frightening feeling of being completely watched. Completely wanted. Completely safe and completely overwhelmed at the same time. DR. HART: Once somebody has made you feel that thoroughly understood physically, ordinary intimacy can feel strangely slow for a while. VDM: Even with an attentive partner? DR. HART: Especially then. Because they're doing nothing wrong. DR. HART: Imagine somebody gives you one night in which every dial in your nervous system is turned to twelve, and then Thursday evening somebody perfectly lovely asks whether you'd like to split dessert. She shrugged. DR. HART: Poor woman never had a chance. FOUR TIMES Most VamFem.com applicants will never be chosen four times. Dr. Hart knows that. She becomes uncomfortable whenever anyone calls her unlucky. Her first selection came sixteen months after she created her profile. Her second came nine months later. Her third less than six months after that. Her fourth arrived unexpectedly during a medical conference. Four vampires. Four nights. Four mornings after. No permanent invitation. No repeated selection from the same vampire. And now— Nothing. VDM: How long has it been? DR. HART: A while. VDM: That's not an answer. DR. HART: I am a physician. We are extremely skilled at not answering questions. VDM: How long? She sighed. DR. HART: Eleven months, twenty-six days. I looked at her. She looked at me. Then she covered her eyes briefly with one hand. DR. HART: And that is going into the article, isn't it? Absolutely. THE PATIENTS WHO HAVE WHAT SHE WANTS This is where Dr. Hart becomes uncomfortable. Not embarrassed. Uncomfortable. Because there is one emotion she wishes she did not experience. Jealousy. A patient arrives Monday morning. She is moving carefully. Perhaps smiling despite herself. Perhaps embarrassed. Perhaps bewildered. She lowers her voice. “Dr. Hart, I was chosen Friday.” The physician takes over immediately. Questions. Symptoms. Examination when necessary. Reassurance. Advice. Professionalism. Always. But somewhere underneath the white coat is Evelyn Hart, VamFem member, four-time chosen woman, eleven-month veteran of silence. Listening. Wanting. Remembering. DR. HART: I've had women sitting where you're sitting, exhausted, aching, embarrassed and complaining about what was probably the greatest night of their lives. She hesitated. DR. HART: And occasionally I'm examining them while thinking, God, I wish that were me. VDM: Does that bother you? DR. HART: Tremendously. VDM: Why? DR. HART: Because I'm their doctor. She leaned forward. DR. HART: My jealousy is irrelevant to their care. Completely irrelevant. They never see it. They never should. But pretending I don't experience it would make this interview dishonest. One patient complained that she hoped her vampire would not select her again because she had been so tired afterward. Dr. Hart remembers thinking something she would never have said aloud. Give me your phone. She laughed when she confessed it. Then she stopped laughing. HOW TO PREPARE So what does a gynecologist who has survived four vampire nights recommend? Nothing magical. That is perhaps the most surprising answer. Sleep normally. Eat normally. Hydrate. Do not arrive intoxicated. Do not undertake some frantic exercise program because your selection chime sounded thirty minutes ago. If you routinely use personal comfort products, bring them. Wear whatever makes you feel beautiful, but remember you eventually have to walk in those shoes. Have water available. Communicate. Take breaks if you need them. Do not interpret being chosen as an obligation to tolerate pain. And, if possible, don't schedule an important breakfast meeting the following morning. DR. HART: I learned that one personally. VDM: Which vampire? DR. HART: Next question. She also recommends leaving yourself recovery time afterward if your circumstances permit. Not because every woman will require it. Because you do not know whether you will. And there are symptoms she does not want women dismissing simply because a vampire was involved. Severe or increasing pain. Heavy or persistent bleeding. Fever. Fainting. Symptoms that worsen rather than improve. Anything that genuinely frightens you. DR. HART: Being chosen does not mean every consequence afterward is automatically normal. THE ADVICE SHE CANNOT GIVE There is, however, one thing Dr. Hart cannot tell women how to prepare for. The silence afterward. Perhaps that is what some women miss most. Not simply the intensity. Not even the vampire. The experience of being understood without having to explain. Hart knows there is no exercise routine, medical preparation or dating advice capable of reproducing that. There is no hydration schedule for that. No stretching routine. No medication. No day off work. No comfortable bath. Because eventually the physical evidence disappears. The bruise fades. The soreness stops. The dress is cleaned. You wash the vampire's perfume from your pillow. And somehow that can make things worse. DR. HART: During the first few days, the memory feels almost physical. You close your eyes and you're there. Then one morning you realize you're remembering remembering it. VDM: Meaning? DR. HART: The memory has already started becoming a memory. She looked toward her phone. It had been sitting face down beside her for our entire conversation. I suddenly wondered whether that had been intentional. DOES IT GO AWAY? VDM: Does the wanting eventually stop? Dr. Hart smiled. Not the polished smile from her professional photographs. Something smaller. Almost embarrassed. DR. HART: You're asking the wrong woman. VDM: Four selections and you're still waiting? DR. HART: Especially after four. VDM: Why especially? DR. HART: Because I know exactly what I'm waiting for. That may be the clearest explanation of the VamFem obsession I have ever heard. Someone who has never been chosen can imagine. Someone who has been chosen once can remember. Someone who has been chosen four times knows. She knows the sound of the chime. She knows the split second before opening the notification. She knows the photograph appearing on the screen. The name. The time. The impossible rush of realizing that somewhere, some vampire has looked through countless profiles and stopped at hers. Again. She knows what happens afterward. And she wants all of it. Including the exhaustion. Including the aching. Including Wednesday. VDM: Even knowing how difficult the aftermath can be, you'd do it again tonight? She actually looked offended. DR. HART: Are you serious? We both laughed. Then she answered properly. DR. HART: Without hesitation. THE PHONE Our photographer arrived near the end of the interview. Dr. Hart removed her white coat for several photographs, revealing the elegant fitted dress underneath, then put it back on for the final portrait behind her desk. Degrees behind her. Medical journals beside her. The signed Vampire Dating Magazine cover visible in the background. Her phone beside her hand. The photographer asked her to move it. She did. Then, without apparently realizing what she was doing, she moved it back. I waited until the photographer finished. VDM: You check it often? DR. HART: My phone? VDM: VamFem. She didn't answer immediately. DR. HART: Less than I used to. VDM: How much less? She laughed. DR. HART: You're becoming irritating. VDM: Occupational hazard. She looked at the screen. Nothing. She placed it face down again. DR. HART: There is one thing nobody explains properly when you sign up. VDM: What? DR. HART: Before you're ever selected, you're waiting for something that might happen. She touched one finger against the edge of the phone. DR. HART: After you've been selected, you're waiting for something you know can happen. And that, apparently, is much harder. I gathered my notes. She walked me toward the door. Before leaving, I asked one final question. VDM: Doctor, after everything you've seen professionally, after four encounters personally, after the soreness and exhaustion and the emotional crash—do you think women should be warned more strongly about what happens after they're chosen? She thought for a long time. DR. HART: Warned? Yes. Then she smiled. DR. HART: Discouraged? She glanced back toward the phone on her desk. DR. HART: Ask somebody else. DR. HART’S FIRST-NIGHT NOTES Rest beforehand. Eat properly. Stay hydrated. Do not attempt extreme last-minute “conditioning.” Avoid numbing products or unnecessary medication simply to tolerate discomfort. Communicate during the encounter. Listen when your body tells you something. Give yourself recovery time afterward when possible, and seek ordinary medical care for symptoms that are severe, persistent, worsening or genuinely concerning. And perhaps most importantly: Do not assume the difficult part will be the morning after. Sometimes the difficult part is three days later, when your body finally feels normal— and you realize normal may never feel quite the same again.