Tuesday, November 27, 2007

I CAN'T BELIEVE I SAID THAT....

I'm going to give you gentlemen a chance to leave the blog because you won't be interested in this. Or if you are, you won't be able to relate. Or you might be embarrassed. So why don't you head on over to espn.com, or cnn.com, or the sofa and put your feet up with the paper. Go on. Scoot. This is girl talk.

Any men left? Are they all gone?

Ok. Good.

Today was my annual checkup. Yeah. I know. We all love them. My doctor schedules them for 9:30 or 1:30 so that they are the first appointment of his morning; or the first one after lunch, so we ladies don't have to wait very long.

You know. For the fun to begin.

I think that's really nice of him, actually. This is a family doctor, so he is also seeing babies, elderly people, men, women. So he sets aside certain times of each week, just for women to have their annual exam.

I really didn't have to wait long. I had to wait for a couple of drug reps to get done with him. My apologies to drug reps, but this drives me crazy. I especially wasn't thrilled to step on the scale while the drug reps were lingering in the hall right beside it.

Then I had to wait for a sweet older lady to give the doctor a bucket of homemade Christmas treats. It's that time of year. He actually gave her a hug and kissed her cheek for it.

Other than that, not a bad wait.

I always go to my annual check-up with a list of questions. And my doctor knows this about me, and I think he appreciates that I come prepared. Some years the list has been quite long. Today, he looked at my little index card and said "That's it?" And I said "Yep, no legal pad this time..."

So we get through all my questions (only 6 this year) and while I'm getting ready to "assume the position" I ask him if the socks are still on the stirrups.

See, he used to keep these socks on the stirrups so they'd be warm for women who were barefoot. They were just white men's crew socks. I always thought they looked tacky, even though I commended him for his efforts.

Turns out the socks are gone because some drug company has made stirrup covers, advertising a drug of course. I think it was Boniva. These covers looked like those little mittens you put on newborn babies so they won't scratch themselves. Except they were bigger.

I looked at the nurse and said "Those are still not very pretty. He needs pink fuzzy socks. You know? Soft pastel things that women will enjoy."

And from somewhere at the end of the table, doctor B says "Ok. I have until next November to get pink fuzzy socks. But you better notice them if I do that for you."

So I said "Oh sure, Dr. B. whatever it takes to make this experience better for YOU."

And he started laughing so hard he had to scoot his stool away from the table to compose himself.

Yep. I bet he'll remember today's visit for a while.

Lucky me.

3 comments:

Unknown said...

Omigosh, that is so funny! I, too, have a weird relationship with my dr, who's been through several years of traumatic infertility treatment with me. You know, there just isn't anything to hide anymore, once you've had that kind of "intimate" relationship. Anyway, I laughed out loud and forwarded your post to a friend!
Thanks,
Trish
etrish.wordpress.com

Beaner said...

Classic!!!

Personally, I'd feel better if my doctor at least gave me a Restaurant Coupon out of the deal!!!

HW said...

OH!! Restaurant coupons!!! I'll suggest that next time.
That and chocolate....