Just what the doctor ordered

Hey y’all, I went to my plumbing doctor the other day. No one really likes those appointments, but you go anyway. You get there and then, well, you know the routine…well maybe you don’t, sorry. Allow me to explain.

Upon arrival, I check in and then asked to take a seat in the waiting room. After about for 15 minutes (and after enough time has gone by to get halfway through a really interesting magazine article), I’m called to go “beyond that door”. I am promptly greeted by Nurse Grumpy that hands me a sample cup and points to the last door on the right (I’d be grumpy too if that was my job day in and day out). There, the natural body function performance of peeing is done, admirably I might add, for the sake of medical science. Open the door and get shuffled to the exam room.

A different nurse follows you in the room and starts asking questions about the visit. The interview is a bit awkward with the personal questions she’s asking, but she shows absolutely no signs of being nearly as uncomfortable as me. A brief scolding from her comes because I waited too long between visits. She slap-closes the file and says “the Doctor will be in shortly” (poor poor choice of words lady!) and leaves the room with an attitude. I can’t help but wonder if that is how her conversations with her husband/boyfriend goes. Regardless, there I now sit, alone, waiting my turn for the grope.

We all are familiar with that ever-so-comfortable exam room table we’re asked to sit or lay on (or assume other positions in my case but I won’t go any further with that). It’s that table that is always situated under an AC vent and in a room barely big enough for me and the Doc to respect each other’s ‘zone’. Oh but wait, that respect is not happening in this place and for this type of appointment so forget about that! Yeah it’s that table…you know it…with the extremely flat pillow and thin paper sheet that embarrassingly sticks to your skin (have you ever seen it dragged across the room stuck to skin, all the while unrolling from the head of the bed? Well it’s not near as funny when it happens to you….).

While trying to calm the anxiety of the visit and not intentionally be an impatient patient sitting in the exam room, here’s what struck my funny bone…the setup is this: 52 years old, grossly overweight, slightly elevated blood pressure, home to an increasing number of body joints that creak and pop, ownership of yet another increasing number of body parts don’t function as well as they once did, cannot dismiss the ‘what ifs’ that race through your mind, idle speculation on how much of this visit your insurance will cover, remain pridefully in denial that you’re even in a urologist’s office, Yeah? Then comes a sudden laughter outburst when the exam table thin paper sheet sponsor is realized.

So this visit routine doesn’t end there. Oh no, not there at all.

The Doc walks in during the laugh wind-down…he gives you that”what’s so dang funny in here all by yourself ya weirdo” look…mumbles a few commands and does his doctorly duty…asks a few questions and answers a few in return…your darnedest is tried to get him to crack a smile (to no avail)…he suggests you lose some weight (ok maybe he said a lot of weight)…and he hands over a free sample of the thin paper sheet’s biggest competitor…he scribbles out a prescription and passes it to you.

And of course he didn’t even ask whether the prescription was needed or not – maybe he saw, heard, or felt something you didn’t….

Taking the prescription, I ask the Doc, “is this going to make me feel better?” He says, “I’m certain it will in many ways, but you may feel that you need to go to the eye doctor in the near future”. I look down and read the prescription, of a 3 month supply, and 3 refills, of the free sample that was just handed out. See there? The man in the white jacket does have a sense of humor underneath those rubber gloves and face mask, the Jerk!

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