The novelty of moaning "oh doctor" soon wore off. Particularly since over half the time the moaning had to be faked. She spent less time thinking about sex and more time imagining him going to his sterile home, wife and kids, white leather furniture and HDTV every night, cutting vegetables with a scalpel and brewing coffee in an IV bag. She did end up composing a rather nice tracheotomy poem and an impressionistic watercolor of lovers in the CT scan. She also thought "Lovers in the CT scan" would make a great song. Vincent could have written it.