Friday, May 23, 2003

  • THE THING: My visit to the doctor.
          Doctor appointment
              Received a rectal exam.
                  Holy violated.
    I had a docotor's appointment for a physical today. Just a general physical to make sure I'm doing OK. Things like cholesterol, blood pressure, cardiovascular stuff, etc. I am not fond of visiting the doctor at all, and now I like it even less.

    I was supposed to not eat for 12 hours beforehand, I managed that. They also had given me a plastic cup to carry my urine in. I needed to pee in the cup when I got up, and had to bring it in. I got there, signed in, told them I was there, and I went to hand the urine sample to the desk person. She told me to just hold onto it until I get called. Oh, goody! I get to hold a jar of my own pee as I wait patiently to be called.

    The wait really wasn't all that long, so that was OK.

    I did have an EKG, which was pretty cool. I never had that done before. Apparently my EKG is all normal. And they did the usual blood pressure, pulse rate, etc. All good.

    Then the doctor did his jazz, checking my eyes and ears and throat. Apparently those were all fine, as well. Then he asked me to drop my drawers so he could do a testicular exam. No problem -- it's a little weird to have a fella rooting around down there, but it's not too painful, and it's over once you turn your head and cough. I did that part fine, and went to pull up my undershorts, when I hear the doctor say:

    "OK, now step up on the stool, turn around and bend over."

    "Nuh-uh!!" I told him.

    "Seriously," he said, "Hop up there and bend over."

    "What for?!" My voice cracked as I said it.

    "We have to do a rectal exam. Please step on the stool, turn around and bend over." He was reaching for the Vaseline as he said it.

    I've never had a rectal exam. I think my rectum is fine. I've never had any pain or problems. I guessed that it wasn't going to simply be an external examination of my anus. And my body was rejecting the idea. My mind was racing with ways to get out of there, but when you are wearing just socks and underwear, and the underwear is around your ankles, there aren't many options.

    Well, I did it. I stepped up on the stool, turned around, bent over, and grabbed the sides of the examination table with as much strength as I could muster.

    I heard him slather up with Vaseline and step behind me.

    "Uh, Chris?" he said.

    "What?" I asked, through clenched teeth.

    "You're going to need to relax your buttocks."

    It took me a few seconds to convince the muscles to actually release enough so he could get his finger up there. Although I don't know if he has fingers as much as tentacles. I swear he dug up there at least 18 inches. I could feel it in my throat. He was rooting around in there as if he had lost some change in seat cushions. It was horrible.

    And then, at the end, I felt so cheap and dirty as he just tossed a box of tissues on the exam bed and said, "Here. Wipe yourself off with those." It took 8 tissues to scrape all the vaseline out from between my cheeks. I don't think any of the vaseline actually made it into the opening, it just got scraped off on the way in. Yowch.

    He told me that he had examined my prostate and obtained a stool sample while he was in there. A stool SAMPLE?! I'm pretty sure he got it all while he was in there. He dug so deep, he probably got some undigested food.

    He checked the sample and told me I was OK, no blood or anything. I almost wished there was something wrong, because in my brain, he stuck his whole arm up my rectum for nothing.

    Thank god I'll never need to do that again. It is just once a lifetime you have one of those, right?