I have had some time to think about my restlessness as an exam date approaches. To be honest, it isn’t like the very first time and certainly won’t be the last! Yet, this anxious anticipation has been known to cause a restless sleep, diminish my appetite, and certainly make me wish to use the bathroom in the hours leading up to the appointment. Before that, the days pass slowly but there is a thread always playing in my mind that makes me acutely aware of that moment when I will hear, “The doctor will see you now. Follow me.” Prior to that, there is time to get lost in the waiting room magazines or stare at the TV playing some innocuous show. Some of the patients look at their cell phones despite the request to turn them off. I suppose all of this is just a child’s version of magical thinking, “If I keep busy, this won’t happen.” Yet, it never seems to fail that at some moment, never when I expect, the door will open and a nurse assistant will call me name, and greet me with a very pleasant smile, as if, what awaits is just like trying on shoes. I know for many that this is the precise moment when anxiety takes hold as one proceeds down the hall, which always seems long and replete with exam rooms with one reserved for me.
It’s impossible for me not to ponder what is exactly taking place behind those closed doors. Try as I might to relax, the sensations of nervousness and self consciousness intensify and are magnified when the nurse assistant engages in small talk only to shut the door and boldly pronounce or maybe is asking, “You’re here for a full physical?” At that moment, I can feel my heart pounding and just find it odd to hear that and wonder what might happen if I said, “No. I am just visiting.” Sadly, I can never think of anything smart-alecky to say, which is pathetic to admit because I doubt the 20-year old something assistant would know how to respond! It never fails because later I can generate some better comments but then again who can’t when the pressure is off.
This time, she has me sit down and says that the nurse will return soon. I am unaccustomed to such a delay but why argue as my clothing is still on and this could be a chance to escape total embarrassment or more likely a tease. Either way, it’s time to survey the room. I immediately question the lousy color selection of exam table paper. Would it drive up the care of health cost to have some color maybe stripes or a floral design. And what’s with the art work permanently attached to the walls? Really, who is going to grab that during the more intimate moments to come? For goodness sakes, why have an instrument tray out? It’s like showing dessert before the meal! Only I doubt that I will want seconds. Besides, I get the drill, so there is no need to make me face the inevitable. And please put away the alcohol container and/or a medication vial. It does little to calm my already frayed nerves. At this point, a glass of wine would be so nice. I don’t care if it’s 9 a.m. No, instead there is the tease of a few well worn magazines for me to peruse but preciously little time or mental capacity to do so.
Then as if on cue when my mind is now wondering, “Gawd, how much longer will I have to wait,” there is the “KNOCK.” Before one can say, OMG, she enters and shakes my hand looking at my chart. “So I see you’re here for your exam ….but I have some questions first.” Wow, now we are surely going to challenge my cognitive abilities as she proceeds down the list of pertinent questions. My answers are typically brief or sometimes a simple shake or nod of my head will suffice. And then without much fan fair, she puts down my chart and gives me that knowing smile, “Well why don’t you take off everything, and we will get started.” I boldly nod and walk over to the corner of the room where a chair resides for my clothing and hear, “panties and bra too dear!” So much for having a college degree, I am now in remedial undressing class! They should allow us to take a picture of that precise moment. I seriously doubt that my facial expression has changed over time. She leaves and there I am alone with my thoughts and about to present her with my birthday suit.
The rest is pretty much standard for me as it is for most other women. The only guess is how much exposure will there be, will I manage to avoid squirming, and will I have way too much KY to clean. Before I know it, there is no time to ponder such important questions as my gown is being lowered and the exam is underway and eagerly greeted by my hardening nipples. It’s like the gown has a mind of its own that makes it always land around my thighs. How hard is it to cover my pubic area? I often wonder what this moment is like for guys. No matter, it’s not going to shied me much and scooting down and spreading wide is surely going to suspend all modesty! As we know, the probing is done quickly but thoroughly and surely professionally but there I am open, vulnerable and going no where! With most of the intimate parts checked, there is the hope that it’s all done only to be told to now turn onto my side or “Let’s have you stand and lean onto the table.” I was never graceful in dance class and this surely strikes me as an awkward pose! Why bother tying the the gown since the tie is never positioned to protect modesty. The gown parts much like Moses dealing with the Red Sea! There I am! My bottom is now available and awaiting an invitation, which comes rapidly and accompanied by the inevitable suggestion, “Relax,” as my cheeks are opened and her finger finds its target. Hardly a skilled level of marksmanship! Rather than offering her any congrats, I can only “gasp.” My eyes close or stare intently at the wall as if this does something to lessen what is taking place. Then, there is the pat on my shoulder and acknowledgement that it’s all over. A hand shake is exchanged while my body comes to terms with being seen, touched and explored.
Once dressed and alone with my thoughts, I wonder how I must have appeared to her? Soon, I feel myself tense and wonder can there be any other feeling as unique as lingering KY? Such is the stuff that memories are made of and likely fuels the anticipation of my next exam. Surely, I am not the only one! Am I?
Julie