Thursday, September 15, 2011

Small town life......

First, I live in a small town and chances are great that I will run into someone that I know every time I venture out into the community. That’s the way it is in rural America. This can be comforting but Monday running into a familiar face was not something that I intended or planned.

I had to go into my doctor’s office for some tests. I was having a pulmonary study and a heart echo done. That was well and good. These tests are not painful and I wasn't worried about getting them done. Also, I stupidly assumed that my doctor’s office would make sure that my heart echo was scheduled to be done by a woman and NOT a man. But, I was very wrong. However, I now know to request that all tests which require disrobing to be done by a female staff member.

A man came out front and told me to follow him which I did. He led me to a section of the office to which I had never been and took me into a small room. Then, he handed me a gown and began giving me disrobing instructions and said that he would be back. At this point I stopped dead in my tracks and said, “Wait!! You know that I know you? You are my son’s friend’s dad! I know you!” I wasn't using the man's name because that made it too real that I knew him.

He sort of nodded his head and said that I was correct. Of course, I was correct, he was Paul’s scoutmaster. He was at Paul’s Eagle ceremony. His picture is on my BLOG! I knew him. So I continued, “You cannot do this test on me. I KNOW you. I know your name.”

He was sort of stammering around and said that the girls who do these tests had left for the day! Good grief! It was three o’clock. I would have come earlier to get the tests run. I thought about taking "my girls" and leaving.

“But, didn’t you tell me to take my bra off? You need my bra off to do this test? I mean when you said disrobe from the waist up, were you including me taking my bra off? Do I have to remove my bra?”

Yes, I think that I said BRA like four or five times. Because taking off my bra meant only one thing – my boobs would be exposed to Paul’s friend’s dad.

I guess he said yes and then told me that he would try and not give me poison ivy which he had on his hands and arms. That was comforting - not! He added that he would try and keep me draped with the towel while doing the test.

I looked over at the towel. It was tiny - minuscule. For the first time in my life, I was wishing that I was a double A. I wanted to tell him that the said “towel” was not in my size but decided to refrain.

Now, I have been told that medical folks don’t care or think anything about your body parts. That’s great and fine and dandy. But honestly, I do care. I wanted to die.

I got my top off and put the paper thin gown on and got on the stupid table with a towel lying on my chest. He came back into the room and asked, “Are you cold? Do you want a sheet?”

I responded, “Yes, I want a sheet. Just put it over my face.”

I lived through the test but I have decided that I need to move to a big city where no one knows your name, your face, or your son.

3 comments:

Deborah said...

You are hilarious !
And by the way, there aren't many more advantages of being a double A:)

Love you!

Leah-Joy said...

Oh, Miss Debbie!!!!!!! You are hilarious!!!!! I have tears in my eyes!!!

Graham said...

This is exactly how I would have responded. You were a trooper!