I have accompanied several friends into the exam room. The most memorable was probably 25 years ago. A very good friend of mine was suffering from symptoms of a hemorrhoid. He knew he would eventually have to visit doctor about the problem. He had asked for my advice as to what kind of doctor he should see. I told him that a proctologist was obviously the best choice.
After scheduling the exam, he started to get cold feet, and was considering canceling the appointment. I told him that he would eventually need to see someone. I tend to be somewhat of a voyeur, and one of my fetishes is watching someone be embarrassed during an exam, so I told him that I would be willing to be his "moral support" during his doctor visit. I don't think he was completely aware of what I meant.
Anyway, when the day of the appointment arrived, I stopped by his house t pick him up. He was extremely nervous and apprehensive. He kept asking me questions about what the doctor might do to him. I tried to reassure him that it wouldn't be that big a deal. I told him the doctor would probably just have him lower his pants and underwear, and have a look at his butthole. He seemed to calm down somewhat.
As we were sitting in the waiting room, a nurse came out and called my friend's name. I assumed I would be remaining in the waiting room. Instead, my friend said to me "You have to come in with me". Wow, what luck! Anyway, when we walked into the exam room the doctor was seated at a desk in the corner of the exam room. When he saw the both of us entering, I could see the curious look on his face, so I immediately spoke up. I said "Dennis wants me to be his moral support". The doctor didn't seem too pleased, but I imagine he didn't want to make an issue of it. He simply told me to have a seat. There was a chair situated about 3 feet from the exam table, so I sat down.
The doctor asked Dennis a few questions about his chief complaint. Then he told Dennis to take a seat on the exam table, and to remove his shirt. I wasn't expecting him to do a complete body check, and obviously neither was Dennis.
After checking vitals, stething, etc., the doctor told Dennis to hop down off the table, and remove his jeans and "underpants". I could immediately see the look of panic on Dennis's face. He did what the doctor asked, and now there he was standing with nothing but his socks on. Then the doctor told him to bend over and touch his toes. Dennis couldn't quite bend over that far, but it was far enough for the doctor to spread his cheeks and stick his finger in. Dennis let out a small gasp, but it was over quickly. Then the doctor told Dennis to get back on the table, and lie on his left side. Then he did another inspection of the rectal area. Then he proceeded to enter Dennis again, only this time he was much more thorough. Since Dennis was facing me, I could see the look of fear, dread and humiliation on his face. I was wondering if Dennis was now regretting his decision to have me in the exam room with him.
After this second rectal exam, the doctor had Dennis sit up again, on the end of the exam table. At this point the doctor pulled out the stirrups. I had never seen stirrups like these before. Actually they were leg rests. They were much higher than regular stirrups. The patient lifted his legs up and rested them on the leg rests. Now Dennis had his legs suspended extremely high, and he glanced over at me, a completely look of fear and embarrassment on his face.
I was beginning to get the feeling that the doctor was, in essence, trying to punish and embarrass Dennis for feeling a need to have me in the room.
At this point the doctor said: "I am going to have to do a sigmoidocopy on you. I'll need you to try to relax. You will most likely feel a strong urge to move your bowels, but you'll be okay".
As soon as the sigmoidoscope was introduced into Dennis's rectum, Dennis started to squirm and protest that was hurting him. The doctor reassured him that it would be "over soon". Then Dennis started to panic, begging the doctor to stop, because he had to use the bathroom. The doctor kept insisting that it was just a sensation. I was somewhat difficult to watch your good friend pleading that " I have to go. I have to go".
When the exam was finally over, Dennis was weak as a kitten. As he was dressing, I could tell he had a hard time looking at me. I tried to reassure him, but it was quite a few months before Dennis was even able to talk to me.