The Reluctant Patient Yet Again
It is an interesting aspect for some of us, that is, being reluctant to undergo a physical examination. Reluctance in this case is not avoidance. Rather, it is resignation that one has to receive an examination and made all the more distressing if it is with a new doctor. Familiarity allows for a better sense of control than the unknown.
Anticipation is the step child of reluctance. If you think about it, “What if” worries begin long before you arrive for your exam and serve to fuel reluctance. For some, this may have contributed to rescheduling of the exam but then only to find one's stomach in knots as the new day and time approaches. While the obligatory morning shower may help calm one's nerves and insure a clean body, it does not shield one from the return of “What if” thinking.
Arrival at the doctor's office and eventual entry into the examination room sets in motion mixed feelings and a strong desire to project a sense of confidence though inwardly feeling like that 7 year old boy or blushing teenager who dreads having to be undressed; and worst, needing to get a shot! Suddenly, what was old and dormant now floods one's consciousness, and then you hear the dreaded knock on the door. What ever hopes on has for modesty is dismissed when told to remove everything but your briefs by the nurse, as she then turns and leaves.
There is no quarter to take refuge in this small windowless room with an exam table and a chair conveniently placed against the wall. The counters are rather empty; a relief not to see the traditional Rectal Thermometer container. Only the doctor's lap top is displayed and some tongue depressors.
One constant remains, the crinkling of the exam paper as you sit and wait while your legs dangling beneath. It seems impossibly loud. There is another knock and she returns to take your BP, oral temp, and weight. Your level of consciousness heightens when standing on the scale facing her. She goes about her business while your mind races to how your bulge must appear. For now, it's much to do about nothing! She records her information and announces that all is good; “See you later.”
You're left to consider the implications of this as the door closes and after some 10 minutes later, another eternity of waiting, the doctor arrives. He is older with grey hair and slightly overweight. He shakes your hand and states that he is to give you a “full” physical. He asks if you have any questions. You mumble, “I feel great,” to which the reply is, “It’s a full exam.”
He begins with the customary eyes, nose, throat, and then proceeds to listen to you breathing. It’s all very matter of fact and then has you lay back down on the table and begins to feel your abdomen causing some pressure. The bulge in your briefs is of no consequence. All seems fine until he loops his thumbs under the waist band of your briefs and starts to pull them down while admonishing you to “Lift up your hips.” As you do, your last vestige of protection is removed and you are laid bare.
He presses further on your abdomen and then with gloved hands begins to examine your penis and testicles. He has you draw up your legs and without much notice, tells you to push as his finger presses into your anus causing you to gasp and groan. The shock of it makes you clench. As he removes his finger, he advises you to stand and gives you a hernia examination. You obey but feel greasy and chilly.
“You will require an enema prep for the next part of this exam.” You react instinctively to cover your genitals with a hand and beg, “Oh my gawd. Why?” He informs you that he will do a rectal exam with as anuscope to make certain all is healthy. “You can sit down, I will get the nurse.”
Before you have a chance to say, “No,” she enters holding a rather large Fleet enema with a long nozzle. Now there is no hiding your genitals from her view as she has you lay back and turn onto your side, and draw both legs to your chest. Your testicles are now prominently revealed as she lubes your rosebud. It twitches and then you feel her full finger inside you rotating around. It is impossible to avoid making a subtle gasp or clenching of your muscles. “I know this is embarrassing. Just try to relax.” The nozzle presses into you and once positioned deep into your inner sanctum, she squeezes the solution into you. With each press, you feel the discharge of solution filling your canal. You groan some as it finally begins to work. Cramping takes time and soon the nozzle is removed and you are allowed to sit up. It’s a struggle. You have no shame or pride left as you don’t bother to cover your penis. You hold your belly complaining that “It feels horrible. I have to go to the bathroom.” With that, you shuffle to the bathroom door just outside of the exam room. For now, you have no concern about being seen!
Upon your return, the nurse asks if you emptied yourself and has a gloved hand at the ready. Words escape you as you nod in the affirmative. “Well, let’s have you bend over the table and spread your legs open.” Too embarrassed to protest, you do as told. Her finger inspects you pressing far into your canal. Your penis wiggles slightly. She then pats the table telling you to get up on the table by positioning on your hands and knees, “Head and chest down.” The position causes you to tremble some as the cold air hits your naked body.
The doctor arrives and you feel his hand spreading your cheeks wide. “Deep breath,” he states and has his finger twirling inside you while his other hand cups your testicles and squeezes. You gasp and feel his finger pressing your prostate. With that, he pronounces you in good shape but needs to “Take a look.” This ominous phrase is soon met with the anuscope slipping in and up into your canal causing you to moan and groan. Your thighs shake and there is slight dripping from your penis onto the paper below. Finally it is removed. KY lube secretes from your anus as you gladly turn and sit up. Your penis is so shriveled and nested into you pubic hair. The doctor announces that all is good.
As you attempt to get off the table and seek to dress, the nurse announces that a medication is always given following this procedure. You nevertheless stand, your penis facing her, your face still ashen from the procedure and ask, “Can I take the pill later.” She smiles and mentions, “I am afraid the shot and the suppository go in your bottom. With that, she turns you around, wipes your left cheek and administers the shot causing you to gasp and clench. Whatever life your penis began to show is now of no consequence. Your penis finds security nested in your pubic hair. The ache in your cheek is soon challenged by what feels cold and slippery pushing up and into your canal. You gasp and her finger stays steady telling you, “Almost done.” Finally, she pats your tush, “There that wasn’t so bad,” and withdraws her finger. You hurry to your clothing feeling ever but probed and exposed.
Before leaving, you have to arrange for your next examination. The receptionist, a young woman of 20 or so, smiles and says, “I see you’ll be back for another full exam!” You merely nod and walk out with a tingling sensation from inside your passage and a sore cheek.