Ever since I was little I never really minded going to the doctor. I guess because I was born with complex medical conditions and I had dozens of surgeries in my first few years of life, It never really phased me that much. It just felt like something I did. But at the same time, I was quite a baby when it came to scary and painful procedures.
Because most of my doctors I associated with pain, dilating eye drops and anesthesia
(all things that I hated), I really liked going to the pediatrician. Perhaps it was the fact that all my surgeries and hospital visits made me nervous, that the pediatrician was some place I knew I could relax and breathe deep (quite literally too). Even if I didn’t love all the procedures I loved the doctors.
I was lucky enough to have the sweetest, most caring pediatrician in the world. I will never forget going to his office as a little girl. While most of the time I would be anxious to know if I was getting a shot or not, I still enjoyed the experience for the most part.
To the best of my knowledge the exams went something like this.
My mom: come on in!
Dr.: how is everything today?
(At this point, I would still either be hiding behind the exam table or sitting their waiting for the doctor to approach me)
Doctor: How are we today?
(I would be nervously anticipating the exam that was to come)
Me: good (I would breathe out slowly)
The doctor would ask my mom if there were any concerns and if there were we would discuss them. As I got older and more comfortable (and also interested in the exams), I would speak up more. The Doctor would ask me how my life was going: school, academics, social life. I didn’t ever feel that anything was off limits and sometimes I would feel more open with him than my own parents. Sometimes I felt that I could feel more open with my me doctor than my dad. And that’s probably just because of the difference in personality. What was great about my doctor is that he didn’t treat me like a little kid. He would treat me like any other human being...always spending lots of time with me and listening to every single concern I had and addressing them all. You could totally tell that he truly cared.
While the exams from when I was younger was where the “magic” started, the most recent memories are engrained in my head much better....
The doctor would get up from the rolling stool he was sitting on and go over to the sink and wash his hands. Then he would wheel over to where I was sitting on the exam table. Usually I would be fully clothed or in a gown.
He would initiate by saying something like: “let’s take a look at things”.
(I don’t exactly know what order he would go In so I will do my best to make it accurate as possible)
First he would take the otoscope down off the wall behind me and ask me to open up and say ahh so he could look at my throat. Next he would place a tip on it. Then, he would place it in my ear and look. A sharp wave of electricity would come over and me and I would flinch. The doctor would think that he was hurting me. One quote I remember from him was saying “I forgot this tickles you, it will only take a second.” and usually that’s all it took when I was little he would do the normal Funny distractions like asking me if I thought I had animals in my ears or asking about school. Of course, I didn’t mind what was going on, but he didn’t know that. Sometimes he would even brush against my breasts. We would both end up laughing though.
Next he would either take his opthalmoscope and look in my eyes or he would take the otoscope again and stick it in my nose. Again, I was very ticklish. After that was pretty much my favorite part of the entire exam. The doctor would take his brightly colored stethoscope off of his neck and he would place it in his ears. Then he would instruct me to breathe in deep...in and out, in and out. Sometimes he would have me lift up my shirt, other times not. I might be weird but I would always get a bit disappointed when I didn’t have to lift my shirt. He would place the stethoscope on my back and a tingle would shoot down my spine. Then he would have a listen to my lungs asking me to cough or take more deep breaths. I’m not entirely sure why this was so “erotic” For me. I guess it could have been a number of things. The doctor being so close to me, or the fact that I could hear my heartbeat or maybe the fact that I was exposed. When I was little I would love the times he would let me take his steth and let me listen to my own heart. Of course as I got older, that offer disappeared. Usually he would take this time to listen to my bowels. In order to do this he had to put his stethoscope sort of near my pantie line. Sometimes he would ask me to hold it in place. Of course I was more than happy to oblige. After that, the most personal part of the exam would take place. The doctor would say he needed to take a peek “down their”. He would either pull my pants waistband up or unbutton me and look through my underwear. I didn’t care as It was always done in a courteous and professional manner and as my mom always explained only the doctor, mommy and daddy could see my private parts. After that it was pretty straightforward. The doctor would check my reflexes and then watch me walk. Sometimes he would look for pubic hair or check my posture but that was about it. If I was lucky, I would get him to listen to my heart and lungs again (and one time he actually did forget). Depending on what grade I was in or what time of the year it was, I would then get shots, my least favorite part. Even though I’m a diabetic, needles at the doctors still freak me out. He would then help me off the Table and I was good for another year or until I got sick