An exam by any other name

Exam1

The other day I was going through all my e-mails and de-cluttering my account by deleting all of the old stuff.  What I came across was an e-mail back in 7/15/2010 that I sent to my friends and co-workers about my first time prostate examination experience.  As I read through it, I vividly relived that moment and thought to myself “Did I really go through that ordeal?!”

I remembered dreading that day but in hindsight I couldn’t help but laugh my ass off for writing it down and sharing a “private” moment with others.  And now I’d like to share it with those that stumble across my blog post for this week.

Here you go:

“I can now say that I’ve officially had something shoved up my butt for the first time in my life.  It was an experience to say the least.  How’d it go you say, well…

 I brought my family with me to my appointment for peace of mind, not that it helped any cause all I could think of was the inevitable.  As usual, I got called in for a pre-check: weigh in, temperature, high blood pressure and then was sent back out to wait.  On any other visit that would be fine but today it was hell.  Visions of what to expect raced through my mind…would it hurt, how long would the drilling be, would it hurt, what position am I gonna be in, would it hurt…things of that nature.

 When I got called in and led to my examination room, I thought to myself “Everyone goes through this type of examination in some shape or form.  So cowboy up and get it done!” 

 As I was waiting in the exam room, the cowboy got the hell outta Dodge and I was left with my own thoughts again.

 My doctor came in, as usual all smiles, and I was ready to do this.  He began by opening up my records and talking about the results of my blood test…LDL, HDL levels, the kidneys, the liver and so on and so forth.  Asked how I was doing, my workout routine, nutrition, any problems with vision, hearing, bowel movements.  What the hell is with all of this talking?!  Can’t we just do it and then talk later? 

 The doctor, still all smiles, went through the usual routine of checking the eyes, ears, nose, throat, breathing, reflexes, feeling lymph nodes and all over my mid-section.  At this point in time, all that I could compare this examination to was the routine of sex.  Yes, even at a juncture like this that “every 7 seconds” rule is still present.  (According to studies, men think about sex every 7 seconds…yeah right, as if.  More like 5 in my opinion.) The talking at the beginning was chit chat, and now all this touchy feely thing is fore play. 

 Finally when he was satisfied, he opened a drawer and started laying some contents onto a table.  A roll of toilet paper which he unravelled, a little packet, gloves and a tube of surgical lubricant from which he squeezed a big glob.  KA-PACK!…on went the gloves and “Take off your pants” was heard.  I briefly saw his face and what pissed me off a little was that he was still all smiles.  What a frickin’ bastard!

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 He told me to turn around, face the wall, and bend down and put my elbows on the bed.  “Holy shit here we go!”  For a nano-second, I remembered that just the other night on cable, I had seen a scene like this on a soft core porn movie.  (Every 7 seconds again.) 

 As he spread my butt cheeks, all I could think about was trying to find “my happy place.”   As that finger went in, any hopes of finding “my happy place” went out the door.  Although it lasted for about 5-7 seconds, the theory of relativity kicked in and it felt longer.  He put a sample of stool onto the packet and the result was negative.  My prostate was normal and I don’t have anything to worry about; he showed me a model of what he was doing while he was playing roto-rooter. 

 With that he wanted to schedule me for another exam like this next year.  Next year?!  I asked him that if I had nothing to worry about why do I have to come back again.  Couldn’t this be done every 5 years?  I guess when you pass 40 these things need to be done.  Shit–fine then! 

 I left the room, walking just slightly different than how I came in, and feeling a bit strange for the experience.  No wait…that was just an urge to wipe off all that excess lube still in my butt crack. 

 Anyway I just wanted to share and figured it would be therapeutic to let it all out.”

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