"Well just tell me if anything hurts," he instructs. "Does this hurt?" he asks as he gently lifts my testicles in his left hand. Since I am not really wearing it anyway, he just takes it completely away leaving me naked on the examination table. "Just let me pull this up a little," he says as the green gown, which is now bunched up in a pile over my crotch is pulled up to my chest exposing my groin. He looks like he lifts weights because he has those heavily veined forearms of a weight lifter. I notice that the top of his hands are covered with a thick coat of dark hair and prominent veins protrude from the back of his hands. "Why don't you just lay back," he says as I see him pull a rubber glove over his right hand.
I oblige with the necessary kick - OK so my reflexes are not broke. He completes the requisite steps such as the rubber hammer to the knee. I'm not sure what is coming next but I'm sure I won't like it. By now my heart beat must be high because I feel totally vulnerable and nervous. His large powerful hands grip my back as he listens to the sound of my heart. A cold stethoscope is quickly pushed against several parts of my chest. Then he fumbles with the gown so that it falls off my shoulders and drops into my lap as I'm seated.
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(Who on earth can figure out how to tie those things shut.) He looks in my nose, throat and ears. Well by this time I've got the gown on and it is hanging completely open in the back. He comes back in and asked me to sit up on the bench. And, oh God, I hope he isn't into that prostate exam shit. "Take off all of your clothes and put this on," he says then turns to walk out the door. He walks in behind me, opens up a drawer and pulls out one of those thin, green gowns that patients wear. "OK", I say, at least now I will get this over with and get my pills. Next thing I know he ushers me into the next office for a checkup. He asks about my family, how much exercise I get (not much) whether I drink, smoke, and how my sex life is going.
Ronalds has virtually no patients except for me and, as I will soon learn, wants to try out everything he has been taught in school. Stupidly, I say I can't even remember the last time I was in a doctor's office. "Well how long has it been since you had a complete physical?" he asks. I tell him I'm only here to get a prescription because of my cold. He sits down his desk and takes out a piece of paper. No doubt a washboard stomach goes with the muscular pectorals. I can tell he likes to work out by the way his white shirt stretches across his chest and bags out across his waist. After all, he is a physician, about 6 foot 4 inches tall, black straight hair, a prominent chin and a great smile. I think to myself that this guy must be a real lady killer. He has been out of residency for a total of one month! He has vivid blue eyes and I notice he has no wedding band. Ronalds is about 32 or so and he tells me he just started with this clinic. "I'm doctor Ronalds," he says and gives me the kind of handshake that leaves your hand hurting.ĭr.
A very young enthusiastic looking guy gets up from behind the desk and quickly approaches me. There is nothing on the walls and there are cardboard boxes piled here and there around the office. Well I enter the office of this doctor and look around. I just can't stand some guy probing and prodding me and sticking his fingers who knows where. They ask who my doctor is and I say I don't have one because I never get sick! So they assign me to somebody and give me an appointment. So I call the HMO that I belong to through my company. Finally I decided to go to a doctor just to get some pills. Am I the only 22 year old who hates to go to the doctor? Last month I had a miserable cold.