A Pain in the Bum

by vix on January 13, 2012


Going to the doctors is  fraught with danger.

stethoscope

Sorry, my hands are a little cold!

I hate it so much I put off making an appointment. I effectively have to be really sick, not just sick-note sick, to ring and commit, and once I’ve made that appointment that’s when my anxiety kicks in. I cut back on the evening vino, I try to get enough sleep, I even try to get in a run, or lose half a stone. They say, a little knowledge is a dangerous thing and if there’s one thing I have – about a myriad of things – it’s a ‘little knowledge’.

I try to avoid googling my symptoms, but somehow the inner investigative journalist adjusts her spectacles and demands to be listened to.I throw caution to the wind and type in ” sore stomach, lower back pain, stomach ache..” and a number of other choice symptoms. Dr Google does his thing and comes back with suggestions. I am obviously suffering from – cancer, a psychological inability to ‘let go’ (and let live) or from the bite of the lesser known purple Inner Mongolian mosquito.

Except I haven’t recently been to Inner Mongolia.

The day of the appointment arrives and I have been despicably ‘good’ all week.  I find my very best pair of knickers and hover with intent over the makeup bag. Should I put on makeup for the doctor? I am wanting to demonstrate my skin problems, so I leave my face bare. I’m seeing a female doctor anyway as I’m assuming the examination could be somewhat personal. I don’t invite any old Tom, Dick, or Harry to a rare screening of my back passage. Ever since that one time I now book a lady doctor for anything that needs to be seen from the waist down. I smiled smugly as I walked to my appointment this morning, remembering that other time.

******************************************

I had been single for a while and was really feeling the lack of intimacy. No one seemed to hold me, beyond jammy hugs from the five year old, and I was feeling a little pent up. I’d made an appointment to see the doctor for a pain in the bum and dutifully trotted along to see what my good lady Doctor could do to help. Which was not a lot. Considering she was holidaying in Fiji and a locum was tending to her patients. Oh that’s fine I said breezily to the Receptionist as I wandered on through.

“Good morning I’m Doctor Johnston,” a pleasant efficient voice said. I turned to look and my eyes locked with the greenest eyes of the most deviliously attractive guy I’d ever seen. As I stammered and blushed, he continued on with his efficiency and started rubbing his hands to warm them up.

“What seems to be the problem?”

And how exactly, do you sexily phrase – ‘Doctor, I have a pain in my bum?

************

Yes, it was a good thing I’d be careful to request a female doctor, who wouldn’t mind the spotty skin, and the unkempt wet hair. The female doctor who wouldn’t baulk at poking around in the back of beyond, and who I wouldn’t feel so embarrassed about revealing my er  issues. I had been very organised, but of course, it was Friday the 13th. And on cue a young trainee doctor attended with my lady doctor.

A MALE trainee doctor.

Of course. I have all the luck don’t I?

Does it matter to you whether you see a doctor of the same sex?

 

 

Image: Flickr CC
a.drian - http://www.flickr.com/photos/adrianclarkmbbs/

 

Tagged as: doctor, embarassment, Friday 13th, funny, humour, medical

  • http://bloggertropolis.blogspot.com/ Steve

    Depends on my ailments, it really does. General stuff I don’t care. Intimate stuff… needs to be a bloke and as clinical as possible. Though preferably with warm hands.

    • Anonymous

      I find the more intimate the procedure, the colder the hands. It’s a passive agressive thing I reckon.

  • http://www.expatmum.blogspot.com/ Expat Mum

    Funnily enough, I probably wouldn’t be too bothered by a male gynecologist; after all, having had three babies in a training hospital, where the world and his wife gets a look up your jacksie, all dignity left the room a long time ago. For “up the bum” stuff tho’ I think I’d try to find a woman. 

    • Anonymous

      Funnily enough this wasn’t a front bottom problem! Like you I’ve shown my fanny to all and sundry whilst birthing three human beings, but the t’other end makes me feel a little shy. As luck would have it I didn’t have to disrobe for this exam, it appears I may have developed adhesions under my scar. They don’t mention that when they mutter about the ‘too posh to push’ option, do they!

  • http://www.expatmum.blogspot.com/ Expat Mum

    BTW – why is the font in your comments teeny-tiny?

    • Anonymous

      This is personal stuff, we don’t want to shout about it Expat Mum.

      • Anonymous

        PMSL. It’s not like we want to blog it and tell the whole world is it!?

    • Anonymous

      I’m not sure? I wonder if it’s not displaying correctly. Though I am just about to do a blog renovation and the font is the first thing I’ll change.

  • http://www.mumsgoneto.blogspot.com/ Trish @ Mum’s Gone to

    Officially my GP is a partner at my husband’s surgery but in reality I tend to just flash my bits at my beloved when we’re at home, saying ‘What do you make of that, then?’. He’s usually very thorough.

    • Anonymous

      You crack me up! But I’m not sure I’d like a friend to be seeing that end either. Doesn’t it make for awkward dinner party conversation? Would love to meet you sometime I’m up country, or when you’re down south!

  • Anonymous

    OMG, I’ve had that ailement for years – a little knowledge. Never occured to me to ask the doctor about it ;) Back on topic – I agree with Expat Mum, no probs with male gynies but somehow the back passage is more embarrassing. No logic, just is and I’d prefer a woman doctor.

    • Anonymous

      Exactly. Not sure why it is, but the back door needs a gentle sympathetic touch. Not sure if there’s a pill or Cognitive Behavioural Therapy that can be taken to ameliorate the ‘little knowledge’ disorder. :-)

  • http://www.knackeredmotherswineclub.blogspot.com/ Knackeredmother

    Funny, when having babies I couldn’t have cared less who saw what (apart from husband, I really didn’t want him down at the business end). But since then, the aftermath (aka piles) has been treated by a male doctor. Painful in every sense…

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