Getting a physical

I wish the title of this blog was without the ‘a’ and was “Getting physical,” and that I was talking about my experiences with a hot girl last night.

But it’s not.

Instead it’s about the complete opposite. Going to your doctor for a checkup.

Getting a physical is always an interesting experience. On one hand, you’re thinking, “This will be quick and easy; just a routine checkup and I’ll be out of there in less than an hour.”

But, on the other hand, you’re also thinking, “I’m probably fine, but, if I were to ever find out I have cancer or hepatitis or a tumor or some type of rare fungus, it’ll be today.”

So, that thought is lingering in the back of your mind, and in result, you’re a little nervous.

The experience was even more interesting for me today because I was seeing a new doctor for the first time. I hadn’t had a physical in two years until today. This is for two reasons. One, my health insurance expired. Two, up until age 22, I was still seeing my pediatrician.

I don’t see what the big deal about it is… he’s a great doctor and he knows my medical history better than anyone! Nonetheless, now at the ripe age of 24, I figured it was time to move on. Sorry Dr. Silverstein, it was nothing personal.

Anyway, now that I am fully covered thanks to my company’s health insurance plan, it was time to get checked. My parents had heard of a local doctor who was supposedly a nice guy and good physician, so I gave it a shot.

At my previous doctor, they let you pee in a cup at home and bring it to his office. It’s always interesting walking up to the door with a hot cup of urine in your hands. I suppose pediatricians are more trustworthy than most doctors. But, with this doctor, you pee at his office. The nurse gave me a cup and sent me to the bathroom. When I was finished, I went to put it in the specimen cabinet, only to see that there was another cup of piss in there.

Now, I don’t do drugs, and I haven’t smoked weed in several months, but if I had toked up recently, I might have considered switching the urine from the cups. Fortunately, I didn’t need to. And with my luck, the kid who I switched it with probably would have had a heroin addiction.

So next thing, I’m sitting in a room wearing nothing but an apron, and waiting for the Doc. All I’m thinking in my head is, “please don’t look like a pedophile, please don’t look like a pedophile, please don’t look like a pedophile…”

Fortunately, I breathed a sigh of relief when he walked in because he looked like a normal pleasant man. And he was.

So, we’re moving along, checks my blood, breathing, cholesterol, ears, throat etc. All the time we’re maintaining a relatively pleasant conversation. He’s asking me about my job, my exercise ritual, my eating habits, among other things. Then, without warning, comes the awkward part and he starts examining my balls.

Doctors are professionals. So they manage to transition into this without skipping a beat in the conversation. He continues to prompt me about my life as if nothing else is going on, and I continue to talk, but meanwhile… it’s pretty distracting.

I’m talking, but all the while things are going through my head that SHOULDN’T be going through my head. Things like:

Wow, this is the most play I’ve gotten in months.

Please don’t get a boner, please don’t get a boner, please don’t get a boner… 

Hmm, maybe I should’ve shaved my pubes more recently.

You know, things like that. Then, before you know it, it’s over, and hopefully you don’t have testicular cancer.

When he finished with the examination, my doctor actually began complimenting me over what great shape I was in, saying that everything was perfectly normal and that I’m extremely healthy.

Usually, doctors seek ways to insult you. Perhaps they think they’re not doing their job if they aren’t giving you any type of advice, so they’ll say things like “It wouldn’t hurt for you to lose a few pounds…” or “You should probably start eating a little healthier” or “You should probably stop being so ugly.”

But today, my doctor was borderline praising me. It almost got to the point where I started to become embarrassed. I almost felt the need to give him a compliment back; something like, “You look pretty decent too, Doc…”

So I’m not going to lie, I felt pretty good when I left. I make a pretty decent effort to exercise daily and eat relatively healthy, so it’s nice to see my efforts paying off. Also, I even weighed five pounds less than I thought I did! When does that ever happen?

Of course, the blood test results are still yet to be determined, so bad news could still be a-coming, but I am confident.

The most shocking part, however, was my doctor not being able to detect my excessive drinking habits. Or even more shocking, that my excessive drinking habits have not yet deterred my health. I guess that calls for a ton of shots this weekend!

Heed my advice kids. Run as much as you can, don’t eat like shit, and you can afford to spend every Friday and Saturday night drinking like it is your last day on earth.

Take that to heart.

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