Annual Physical, Piece of Cake
Posted: Wednesday, September 16, 2009
by Brianna Popsickle
"Ugh, I don't want to go," my daughter said looking at the calendar. She was scheduled for her first complete physical in another week, mine was scheduled for the next day.
"Aw, there's nothing to it," I reassured her. "It's a piece of cake."
Of course I was lying through my teeth. What woman in her right mind looks forward to her annual physical? It's right up there with having a root canal. I'd given birth to two children and had two decades of physicals behind me, and yet each time I went I had to tell myself to just relax, and find your happy place.
"What about those?" I asked, pointing to a group of about six empty spots. She explained they had reserved some for a meeting taking place that day.
By now there were three cars pulled in behind me. I watched in my rearview as each driver pointed to the six empty spots, while the attendant attempted to explain. Eventually, one by one, we backed out and began cruising the adjacent streets for parking. I got a spot two blocks away. Once early for my appointment, I was now running ten minutes late. I picked up my pace.
Just what you want, I thought, work up a good sweat right before your physical. Nice.
By the time I got in the office, I was out of breath. I was hoping it wouldn't affect my blood pressure reading. Like every exam, I took my physical seriously, I liked to pass with flying colours. I checked in with the receptionist and was told the doctor was running late. I was the second appointment, I thought. How could he be behind already?
I joined the others in the waiting area. There were five solemn looking people pretending to read. I glanced towards the magazine rack to see one left, Fisherman Magazine, but hey, beggars can't be choosers. Just as I went to reach for it however, a little blue haired lady smiled sweetly, and scooped it out from under me.
I stared at her. Happy place, I reminded myself. Find your happy place.
Determined to relax, I started tapping my foot to the cool, bluesy music that was playing. I asked the receptionist what CD it was, she said it was a local musician.
I smiled at the person next to me, "Catchy isn't it?" and began nodding my head to the beat.
In a matter of minutes, everyone was tapping their foot to the music; some were even nodding along with me. I felt good, happy to help them relax. This wasn't going to be so bad after all.
I waited, and waited. I was starting to wish I'd had breakfast. Finally I was called in to one of the little rooms beyond the reception area to wait some more. I thought I'd speed things up and put on the paper gown I assumed they laid out for me.
The nurse came in and seemed surprised. "Oh, you've changed," she said handing me a bottle. "I need you to give a urine sample."
Reluctantly, wearing my paper gown, I made my way past the waiting area to the washroom, noticing everyone was still tapping and nodding to the music. I smiled. I had started that.
I was in the washroom contemplating how on earth they actually expect women to aim for the little bottle, when someone knocked on the door.
"Occupied," I said politely.
I was attempting to screw the lid on the bottle when suddenly there was more knocking. I tried to hurry. The bottle tipped and half of the contents I'd worked so hard for, splashed onto the front of my paper gown and onto the floor. The knocking persisted.
It's freaking occupied, I wanted to yell, but instead, quickly washed my hands only to realize there were no paper towels. Without thinking, I wiped them on the front of my gown, leaving two big wet spots along with the splatter .
I went to leave and looked down at the doorknob. Crap, I thought, no paper towels. I grabbed the bottom of my gown, pulled it up, covered the doorknob and turned. The gown ripped. I jerked open the door and abruptly stepped past a large, frantic looking woman. I thought I should probably tell her there were no paper towels, and to watch her step, but decided against it, making my way back to the examination room.
The nurse entered yet again. "I just have to get your weight and then the doctor will see you," she said. "Follow me."
I followed her, clutching the back of my gown with one hand and trying to cover the wet spots on the front with the other.
The scale was situated directly across from the waiting room. I looked up to see everyone's eyes on me, still happily tapping to the music. They were really starting to tick me off.
Happy place, happy place.
I stepped on the scale and the nurse announced my weight, loud enough for everyone to hear. Then she said "Oh no, just a second," and adjusted it again, announcing my weight one pound higher.
Bitch! I thought, and marched back to the examination room.
The doctor came in with his secretary, who had the joy of being his accomplice during physicals. He told me to lay back and relax and began the examination. He attempted to make small talk so none of us would be aware his hands were on my breasts. He asked me about my kids, and I asked him about his. His daughter was still in piano and his son rode horses. My stomach started to growl so I began to talk louder.
Then we moved on to the uncomfortable part of the examination. Once again he told me to relax. Then he proceeded to tell me what he is going to do to me, and then what he was going to do next.
It was starting to sound a bit too much like a porn flick, and I had a bad case of stage fright. We'd been having this encounter once a year, for years now, I knew what he was going to do. Just do it! He repeated himself and told me to relax.
Seriously, I thought, this guy was taking his life in his hands. If he told me to relax one more time, he was getting a knee to the head.
Finally, examination over, he told me to get dressed and to open the door when I was ready for him to come back in.
I changed out of my wet, ripped gown, opened the door and waited. I heard him called to the phone. The phone hung on the wall directly across from my room. Suddenly he was standing there talking in hushed tones, looking directly at me, and me at him. Awkward, I thought, very awkward. Should I close the door? I opted to look anywhere but at him. I focused on the framed photograph hanging next to him on the wall.
Minutes passed, he came in and sat down. Attempting to break the ice I commented on the photo.
"That's a great picture of your son on his horse," I said cheerfully.
To which he replied, "That's my wife."
Get me the hell out of here! I wanted to scream .
He gave me a requisition for some blood work and just when I thought he'd taken it well, he said, "I don't usually send a woman your age but there's no time like the present, I'm sending you for a mammogram."
Great, I thought, Just great. I had totally ticked him off.
I walked the two blocks back to my car. My stomach was still growling but I'd lost my appetite.
I got home and circled the date of my mammogram on the calendar.
My daughter walked in and knowing I had gone for my physical, asked how it went.
"How do you think?" I replied, smiling through clenched teeth. "It was a piece of cake."
"A piece of freaking cake."
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Top-level comments on this article: (6 total)O.k. Brianna! I have tears streaming! thanks for the laugh! Glad it was you and not me!It's always me for some reason, but I've learned to laugh at it! Thanks for reading and commenting Laura.
Hi Brianna.I'll ditto Laura. Memo to self: don't change into the paper gown until told to do so.Thanks for the laughs, with you of course.DianneThanks Dianne, nothing like a good laugh! Thanks for reading and commenting.
Brianna, I am going to take your word about the woman and her physical. I have a wife, need I say more?...SMILE...Don't take my word for it! Ask your wife. I'm sure she'll know where I'm coming from, as will every other woman reading this. Thanks for commenting Dr. Rucker!
Hilarious! Your story telling is a work of art!Why thank you Bruce, I appreciate that coming from the creative genius who came up with SearchWarp's Q & A. (Oh sorry, I just remembered JP's follow up article, was that you or Jean who came up with it? :)
Oh, yah, mine was this month too and a way to recent memory for sure. I think the digital mammography is really wonderful though - can't believe the change, for the better, in their compression technique (hey, there is a whole 'nother article for one of us to do?!)This piece is a riot - especially since I am a woman and worked in various doc's offices for years and was then on ther OTHER side of the exam table. Seriously, something that changed things MUCH for me was switching to a female MD or RN practitioner of PA. Really shines a different light on this, uh, memorable day?! Marijo (Mary Jo is how it is pronounced)Whew, that's a load off Marijo. I didn't know they now have digital mammography. How bad can that be? :) Thanks for your feedback.
This was too funny Brianna! I appreciate you sharing with us your comedy of errors!Glad you could 'laugh along with me'. Thanks for reading and commenting Edward.
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