Today's yearly physical
Today's yearly physical
I had my annual physical today. This is my real story. I didn't make up a word.
I showered thoroughly and chose a blue t-shirt, cotton ankle-length socks, and pair of white, knee-length shorts. I surveyed the underwear options in my dresser, choosing the gray Calvin Klein boxer-briefs even though it doesn’t really matter because I am directed to take off everything anyway. I slipped on some old running shoes and was out the door.
The drive to the clinic was uneventful. I found a parking spot and headed into the elevator. In the lobby, I checked in and provided my insurance information, took a seat, and grabbed the first magazine on the stack—a golf magazine. There were three other men in the waiting room, each a fair amount older than I. I stay in shape and work out every day, so I knew I was to be a pleasant respite from the clinic’s usual clientele of old and infirm.
Eventually a very attractive Asian-American woman called my name. The first stop was the scale, which was right inside the door leading to the exam rooms. She told me to slip off my shoes and step on the scale. I weighed 141 pounds. Then I stood against the wall—5-foot-7.
She told me to follow her. We passed about eight exam rooms before she led me into mine. It is a pleasant room, with dark walls, wood trim, and a mirror behind the exam table. Before I took a seat, I confirmed there was a rolled-up cloth gown on the white paper of the exam table, which for the first time had been placed on top of a paper drape. She told me I could use the drape across my lap if I wanted to.
The assistant took my blood pressure (128 over 70) and pulse (72), and said she was going to “slip out” and that I was to “put on the gown, opening in the back, and everything completely off.” Those were her exact words.
I paused for a second and examined the instruments and supplies that were conveniently positioned near the exam table for use on me—thermometer, lights to check eyes and ears, and a box with two sizes of exam gloves.
I hurried out of my t-shirt, shorts, shoes, and socks and stood bare-footed in the exam room, wearing only my gray undershorts. I thought back to all the physicals I had when I was younger athlete—when the underwear stayed on and was pushed down only at the end so the doctor could check my testicles for lumps and confirm I didn’t have a hernia that would prevent me from playing sports.
I relived that experience, if only for a few moments, and pushed my Calvin Kleins to mid-thigh, exposing my penis and testicles to the exam room for the first time, recalling how embarrassing it was to have to do that when I was younger, and all the times I imagined the guys on the team exposing to the doctor what I had seen in the showers.
But this was an adult physical, so I slipped out of my underwear entirely, let them fall to the floor, and scooped them up with my other clothes to place them on the chair next to the desk where my blood pressure had been taken. I was entirely naked as I fumbled with the gown. If the doctor had been early or the cute assistant had returned, I would’ve been caught completely exposed.
Eventually I figured out which way the gown was supposed to go, slipped my arms through the openings, and knew there was no reason to tie the back since my bare ass would be exposed at the end of the physical anyway. I put the paper drape behind me and took a seat, careful to keep my naked buttocks on the exam table’s white paper.
I let my legs and feet sway at the end of the table and looked toward the doctor’s low stool, which I knew gave the doctor a glimpse up my gown if I sat in just the right way and of course elected not to use the drape. Every time I’ve seen this doctor, he steals a glance. He’s about my age, and is gay, and likely does not get much of an opportunity to examine a guy like me with a 31-inch waist and really no health issues other than a history of cancer in the family.
I pulled the gown up farther than it needed to go and imagined the view he would have from his stool as he stole glances at my flaccid penis resting on top of my scrotum. Then I pulled the gown away from my naked crotch entirely to expose my penis and testicles to the fluorescent lights.
I started thinking about my fantasy of being examined entirely naked from start to finish, no underwear, no gown. The assistant tells me to take everything off, and makes a point to instruct me that the underwear need to come off for today's physical. She offers me no gown or drape. I follow directions, and take a seat on the end of exam table to await the fully clothed doctor.
As I thought about my fantasy, I realized the pre seminal fluid had begun leaking from my penis’ tip. I wiped it onto my fingers and then onto my gown and thigh, and thought, well, there’s no turning back. So I positioned the gown so my penis and testicles would be slightly visible.
Eventually there was a knock and the doctor warned he was coming in. I said I was ready. He shook my hand, took a seat, and stole a glance up my gown before intentionally paying me lots of eye contact.
My ears were first, then my throat. After putting that instrument back onto the wall, he used his stethoscope to listen to my neck and then my back through the untied gown. As he asked me to take deep breaths through my mouth, he unquestionably had a good view of my lower back and butt crack.
Then it was time to lie back. He pulled the gown from my chest and exposed the area above my waist to the exam room’s lights. He spent plenty of time listening to my heart and then, with an ungloved hand, pressed repeatedly around my abdomen, pushing the exam gown down enough to expose my pubic hair. I felt extremely comfortable and could feel my scrotum loosen, allowing my testicles could droop toward the table’s white paper as he pressed down just as far as he needed to go.
He returned the gown to my chest without putting my arms back in it, and put the paper drape on my abdomen. Then he pushed my gown up to expose my genitalia. He looked closely and asked whether I was experiencing any pain in that region or was having any problem getting an erection. I told the truth: the answers were no. So, for good or for bad, he just pressed his ungloved hand around the perimeter of my genital region, not touching but undoubtedly looking at my slightly plumped-up penis and my testicles having loose in their scrotum. If he saw the pre seminal fluid, he didn’t say anything.
Then he directed me to lie on my side. I watched him pull a glove from the dispenser on the wall, and we made idle chitchat while he did what he does every year. My gown had fallen to the side, so my rectum was fully exposed. I felt his slippery finger against he opening, and he entered me pretty quickly. Within just a couple seconds the doctor’s index finger was entirely inside of me. It hurt more than usual. He asked if I was doing OK, and I said I was. He said it should feel like I was going to urinate. It really didn’t, to be honest. I just felt … full.
And with that, he handed me a box of tissues. I took a large wad and stayed on my side as he took off his glove. He washed his hands as I wiped the lubricant from between my cheeks. Then I sat up, let the gown fall to my waist, and placed my wad of tissues into the tissues he had used to dry his hands.
We talked about cancer risks as he sat on his stool fully clothed and I sat bare-chested with the cloth gown and paper drape at my waist. Eventually he said he would leave me alone so I could get dressed, and would be back in to talk about lab work.
As he closed the door, I was off the table fast. I threw the gown, drape, and box of tissues on the floor and took about a minute to live out my fantasy. And here it is, in greater detail ...
I sit, entirely naked, on the exam table, waiting for the doctor, getting a little hard, regretting I didn't have at least some sort of drape. Eventually he comes in and gets right to business without saying much. He is thorough but stern as he examines my upper half while I’m sitting, and then makes me lie down wearing not a stitch of clothing.
He is in a tie and white coat as he stands over my torso and visually inspects my upper half. It is thorough, and prodding. Then he stands at my side as he goes lower and lower, complimenting me for keeping a good weight and tone and asking about my exercise. I explain that I run and swim, and do weights occasionally. He tells me that it shows, and that I should keep it up.
Eventually he reaches my genitalia and examines it extremely thoroughly, commenting on the average size of my penis, my healthy circumcision, and my testicles that also are about average-sized. As he rolls my balls between his fingers, I think about all the penises, testicles, and scrotums he has examined to be able to reach that conclusion.
He says a rectal exam is next. I start to turn on my side but he stops me there and says just to lie back today. He orders me to put my feet flat on the exam table and stands between my knees as he enters me forcefully and watches me wince but says nothing.
Eventually it is over. Instead of getting an erection, my penis has shriveled a bit in a slightly embarrassing way and my testicles have pulled up in their scrotum. I sit at the exam table entirely naked as he declares me in perfect health but orders me back in a year anyway. He says I can get dressed, and stays in the room as I get back into my underwear, t-shirt, shorts, socks and shoes. Then he leads me to the hallway before returning to his office to live out his own little fantasy of what he wished he could have done to me.
