Another year, another visit to the doctor. This actually happened waaaay back in October, but I decided to hold off on sharing it until now. As always, I find physicals to be an odd experience.
First, when I arrived, the secretary asked me for my health card, which I dutifully pulled out of my wallet. But then she asked if I had brought a urine sample with me. Well normally I carry a sample with me in my wallet just in case, but geez, I guess I had left it at home. What an odd question!
So I said I hadn't and she asked me to "provide" one. So off I went wandering to the washroom, when I heard the secretary get on the phone behind me and call the nurse. "Jeff is here and will be providing a urine sample shortly."
Apparently, they must announce my urine sample -- I'm that important, you see. So now, not only do I have to provide a sample, but I have to do it quickly before the nurse comes knocking on the washroom door. "I know you're in there! You have 30 seconds to come out with your cup full!"
I've always found the whole peeing in the cup thing to be a bit weird. I can barely do it. I don't know how women do it. You have to consider the angles, wind speed, cup size, then you've got to hold the cup with one hand and aim with the other...am I getting too graphic yet? I think men should get some sort of medal for filling the damn cup.
Next up the doctor checked my weight. Of course, I got weighed with my clothes on. "You weigh 165 lbs," the doctor says.
"Actually, I weigh 162 lbs," I correct her as she's taking notes.
"Right." She smiles at me. I lean over her shoulder to see what she wrote. 165. Can we put an asterisk next to that or something? I've got a wallet and keys that weigh a good 5 lbs between them...
Then they do that annoying test where they prick your finger and draw a drop of blood to check my glucose level. I hear the doctor say "Hmmmmm," as she checks the glucose meter. "It's low."
Well of course it's low! You told me not to eat or drink anything for 12 hours! I'm dying for a Big Mac over here and you're surprised I have low blood sugar. I'm going into organ failure and you're trying to put two-and-two together. And no, I wasn't bitter at the time...
Now she's poking and prodding me everywhere as she asks these insane questions: "Have you ever had a dizzy spell?" Yes, usually when I'm spun around. "Have you ever had trouble urinating?" Yes, I was once on this plane trying to pee in the middle of moderate turbulence -- now that was trouble. "Any pain while making a bowel movement?" Love that term. A bowel movement. Sounds much cleaner than what it is. For once I'd love to hear a doctor say: "So, does your ass hurt when you take a shit?" Now that would be funny.
So she finishes up with her poking and prodding (ok, his stomach is soft and mushy -- good...and his shoulders seem to be boney -- that's excellent), she dons the rubber glove *gasp*. After rummaging around for awhile and confirming that everything is where it should be (though she did find that other sock that I haven't seen in ages), she said everything was fine. Though, I thought now would be a good time to ask if my butt hurts when I go to the toilet. If it didn't before, it will now!
Next up, my blood tests -- 13 vials! You see, because I'm a runner, she wanted extra bloodwork done to confirm I'm healthy. Ironically, if I was lazy and overweight, she would've ordered fewer tests. There's motivation for you!
So now the nurse is drawing my blood. I swear to you it took a good 10 minutes because that's how long it takes to fill 13 vials of blood. I might as well have ordered a pizza -- it would've arrived by the time they finished. In fact, at the end, the nurse asked me if I was ok...
"Yes I am."
"Are you sure?" She sounds concerned.
I laugh. "Yes, I'm sure. Why?"
"Well you look kind of pale."
I stare at her for a moment. "Well I would think so. You just took 13 vials of blood. There's nothing left in me. If you give me some back, I promise I won't look so pale."
She laughed and suggested I go get something to eat -- like a pizza.