Picture it: 8:30pm, 76 degrees and I'm out on my patio with a beer and a stogie, writing this blog. As my father once said, "You look like an asshole." Which makes me chuckle, because people tell me that I take after my dad.
Now that I've set the mood, let me tell you about my doctor's appointment earlier this week. I needed a physical as a requirement for this volunteer gig. Easy enough, right? Pulse, temperature, reflexes... Not sure why I had to get it done at all - I'm under the impression I'm only volunteering to provide companionship, not to be an ass wiper or anything. Anyway...
I get in and the doctor's assistant weighs me, takes my height and blood pressure. For a brief moment it felt like I was being prepped for slaughter. She takes me back to the examination room, and then it happens: Ms. Vo-Tech Medicine pulls out The Gown. I'm like, "Hold UP. The Gown is not necessary. The doctor can check my vitals with my clothes on." The response I get - "You have to." Me: "You really think so?"
In typical female fashion, Ms. Not Smart Enough For Med School shoots me the stink eye, throws a gown on the exam table and grunts, "You can keep your bra and underwear on," before she walks out. Oh yeah?? Well the joke's on you, lady! I'm not wearing underwear and no, I don't have a tuna sandwich in my purse!
Soooo....I put the stupid gown on. But I wasn't happy about it. And it could be worse, I thought. A few years back I went to this same doctor and the nurse told me to undress for The Gown, then left the room and forgot to leave one out for me. I didn't realize it until AFTER I stripped, and well, I'd be damned if I was going to get dressed, only to get undressed again. Thank God I brought a jacket that day - I ended up wearing that as my own make-shift gown. When the doctor walked in and saw me, I copped some serious attitude and said, "Uh, the nurse forgot to leave a gown out for me." Can I tell you how hard it is pulling off "pissed" when you've got nothing on but socks and a windbreaker?
Anyway...back to the present.
I waited in that room, in that gown, for almost 40 minutes. Lame. I looked through all the drawers and cabinets. I even glanced in the "hazardous waste" garbage can. That only got me through 5 minutes. I considered shuffling out to the waiting room to grab a magazine to read, but I figured they wouldn't appreciate me walking around without shoes on. I opted to kick back on the exam table and proceeded to take a nap.
20 minutes later, voices in the next room woke me up. As luck would have it, I could clearly hear the doc's conversation with the patient in the adjacent room. It was a mother-daughter team and the daughter was going on birth control because she was going away to college. Now I know how "accidental" pregnancies happen. It's more like "stupidental."
The girl was asking all sorts of idiot questions - Can I take 7 pills at once and be done for the week? Can I take two pills every other day? And then the mom - What diseases will this prevent? Will alcohol make the Pill less effective? The apple didn't fall far from the tree.
I wanted to knock on the wall and yell, "Hey girl, you're putting the cart before the horse. You're not even that cute!" I didn't, though - I was afraid the HIPAA police would arrest me.
Eventually my doctor showed up. She eyeballed me, looked in my mouth, my ears, made me take deep breaths...then looked at my height/weight and asked, "Do you work out?" Yup, I do.
We talk about why I need this physical, she says she thinks it's nice that I'm volunteering and then she asks, "So, do you exercise?" Uh...YEAH. I do. She makes notes in my file. From her hand positioning, I have a sneaking suspicion she drew a picture of a cupcake.
We shoot the shit for a little bit longer, she tells me about her dogs and how she recently changed to a vegetarian diet, I tell her how I love pasta, Kenny G and long walks on the beach and then she asks, "Do you ever work out?"
OKAY, I get it. I'm too chunky for my height. On paper I could pass for a bowling ball. Whatever. But in real life I think I look fairly normal. Oh sure, I can pack food away like a Tupperware container. But like I said 3 different times, I work out. And what's it to her? She probably graduated last in her class anyway.
It just confirms that vegetarians are bitches. But we all knew that already.
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