What a fantastic question. Words have power and for me create the images and expectations that going to the doctor has come to signify. From early on, certainly late childhood like age 11 - 12, the notion of hearing “He needs to undress to his briefs and I will be back," got me to blush and feel anxious. Overhearing mom ask about my exam and tell me, “You have to see the doctor so don't fuss,” got stored in my memories banks.
By 12 - 13, I was having morning erections and later spontaneous ejaculations. My peers were also at this point and telling fantastic stories. Hearing anyone say, “I have to see the doctor or Ya, I got a get a physical,” would make me aroused. I loved to hear what their experiences entailed and how they managed to get through an exam.
I was usually quite nervous and a bit scared most of the time. Learning about an upcoming exam was often last minute, I think to spare mom my protests. “Look you have to see the doctor this morning, I will take you to school after,” was a shocker. The ride in the car was agonizing. My tummy would get all distressed and my heart rate would escalate. Mom often seemed to be oblivious to how I felt.
Arriving at the office was for me a very self conscious moment. I felt embarrassed to have mom there and knew she would go into the exam room with me at that age. I hated when the nurse would come to the waiting area and call out someone's name. I always scanned the room to see how folks looked before and after. It was not uncommon to see patients looking scared or fending off tears be they male or female.
Upon reaching the exam hall, it was being told, “I need a urine sample,” and being handed a container and then directed to the bathroom that made it clear this exam was for real. Mom would remain behind and become informed, “He's getting a full physical and vaccination today.” This made it virtually impossible to pee quickly. I would return with my sample in hand but never look up when handing it to the nurse. I just wanted to be invisible.
“Alright,” as she escorted me to the exam room, “Let's have you get fully undressed, you can leave your briefs on…to start.” Omg you might as well have shot me. I was slow to strip and mom would simply say, “It has to be done. Do as you're told.”
Once in my briefs, it was stand and try to remain calm but that would never work as I would be told, “Step up onto the scale,” and be weighed. Then I would be directed to get up onto the table and have my BP taken. The process seemed agonizing as next came the necessity to get a temperature recording. Seeing her get a thermometer and her coat the tip with lube meant only one thing. “Okay Nick, lay back and turn over. This has to be a rectal temp.” Omg I wanted to disappear but the only thing that did were my briefs as she yanked them down below my knees. Without notice, the thermometer found its target and was pushed into me with a twisting motion. My mind went blank. I had my head in my arms and tried to not focus on what was up my bottom. It seemed like forever until she slipped it out and then patted my naked bum, “Okay, all done, you can sit up,” which led me to furiously grab my briefs and cover up during which mom and the nurse saw my penis, which could have been semi or erect.
Sitting there waiting for the doctor was an eternity. I felt gooey and also pee or wetness from my penis. I think now it may have been pre cum but didn't realize then. The doctor would arrive, shake my hand, and do his exam. The nurse would leave. After getting the basics, the doctor would then direct me to, “Okay lose the briefs and stand over hear.” No amount a trying to cover up could spare me from his genital examination and visual inspection of my anus. Several years later, he added a finger to the exam. “Lean over, spread your legs. This won't hurt, deep breath and push.” His finger would press into me causing me to gasp and clench. Thankfully later teen years meant going in alone for my exams. I had on some occasions become erect. The doctor was not phased, “It happens" and would then direct me to cough or do something else.
Being fully exposed made time stand still. I went from stiff to shriveled. The latter often something the nurse would see when she was to provide me with a vaccination. Hearing, “One more thing and then you can get dressed,” was not confidence inspiring. I could cover my crotch area only to see her holding a long needle or two. I nevertheless shook like a leaf and assumed the position of bending over onto the table. I was not brave and would whimper when the shot was given and shake. I clenched. “All done” was met with some relief but also a bit of discomfort from the shot and feeling my anus being fully of lube. Dressing meant having my briefs get wedged between each cheek.
Today, there is no getting away from the memories or the words used from my exams.
Thanks for reading this.