This detailed account has little to do with the fetish side of medicine but I thought I would share an unusual incident that occurred while undergoing a physical two days ago. My doctor is an average looking but very nice woman in her early 50’s with an apparent wealth of knowledge in the field of medicine. Every time I have asked her a question, she has provided an answer with seemingly little mental effort. Anyway, on this particular visit I was a little nervous but also curious as to what would transpire during my initial check-up. My former physician quit practicing with very little notice (was it something I said?) so I’m still in the feeling out process with my new doctor.
The preliminary procedures such as weight, blood pressure, pulse, and temperature, were performed by the nurse and were accomplished in exactly the same manner as on prior visits. She did a quick review of the prescription drugs I am currently taking and before leaving the room, notified me that the doctor would be in shortly. Everything seemed normal, with one exception. She didn’t say anything about changing into a gown which should not have come as too much of a surprise because there was no gown in sight.
After a fairly short wait, a knock was heard and she emerged with her usual kind expression and her customary handshake. She asked me a few questions before inviting me to take a seat on the examination table.
The physical started out uneventfully, with her employing typical examination techniques. Keep in mind, I was still fully clothed, including my shoes. Approximately four months ago I was diagnosed with squamous-cell carcinoma, a nonmelanoma type of cancer. I was referred to a dermatologist and the cancer was successfully removed in the early summer of this year. With my recent history, she spent a fair amount of time examining my face, behind my ears, and the top of my head. A couple minor spots were detected, one of which I was unaware of. Then suddenly, out of the blue, she asked me if my prostate had been checked lately. I indicated it had not and she continued on her merry ways. I’m not sure if I zoned out for a minute but the next thing I knew, there was a tap on the door. After a brief pause, the receptionist entered the room with a kit that included a canister of liquid nitrogen. A similar canister had been used on my face during a visit to the dermatologist a few months ago but I was surprised to see it on this occasion. I was also surprised to see the receptionist offering it to the doctor. How did she know this container was the one the doctor needed? I didn’t hear anything said to that effect but like I said, perhaps I had zoned out for a moment. I can only assume she had buzzed the assistant, but unless it was pre-arranged, how did she know to bring the liquid nitrogen?
Based on the recent conversation about my prostate gland, I was quite relieved that the receptionist showed up when she did. I figured the inevitable was about to happen and I was thankful she came at a time I was fully clothed.
My relief was short-lived when I realized the young woman who had answered the doctor’s page showed no indication she was going to leave the room anytime soon. I tried to take it all in stride and maintain a cool exterior when the lady doctor told me to stand up. After saying this, she turned her back on me, which effectively prevented me from seeing what she was up to. It didn’t take me long to make that determination as the familiar sound of latex being snapped in position awoke my senses. My first thought was to cast a penetrating gaze in the direction of the chaperone/receptionist/secretary but I refrained and remained stoic. Almost immediately, I was instructed to turn around, lower my pants, and bend over the table.
Now I’m not one to embarrass easily but this ‘scene’ got to me. Not only did I feel embarrassed but I felt slightly violated, a sensation I have experienced only once prior in my life. With all these seemingly undesirable emotions sprouting up at once, I also felt somewhat excited. “What the hell is wrong with me?” I thought to myself.
Back to my immediate problem.
As I leaned over the table and felt her invading finger enter and explore my nether region, I was tempted to look over my shoulder but instead I chose to stare at the wall in front of me. It was over pretty quickly and after reclaiming some of my dignity by the simple act of pulling up my pants, I glanced over toward the unexpected guest just as she was leaving the room. Had it been the lone nurse of this small family practice witnessing the act, I’m sure I would have been okay with her presence. But having the young woman who answers the phone standing directly behind me during this intimate exam created a weird feeling inside me.
When the door closed my doctor suddenly struck up a conversation about her recent travels. She seemed relieved that the procedure was over.
In retrospect, I came to the conclusion that the ‘chaperone’ was summoned to protect her from any possible legal action, but with zero regards to my privacy. Perhaps she doesn’t fully trust me. I can only speculate. Her decision to summon the secretary disappointed and surprised me but I’m determined to make her feel more relaxed in my presence, if this is indeed the problem. I really like her and she is very easy to talk to. Her husband, who is not a medical professional, hangs out in the office sometimes, but I didn’t see him on the day of my recent visit. Perhaps he would have been called in as a witness if he had been present. I can only assume the nurse was preoccupied in another room. There is also the possibility that the doctor assumed a stance behind me that prevented the receptionist from seeing something she didn't need to see. I'll never know.
I certainly hope my predicament was the result of a series of events that led to the secretary, of all people, being given a front row seat to my rather intimate exam. I’ve had numerous female physicians through the years who have never requested a chaperone to be present until this memorable day.
I apologize for rambling on so long!