Day 46
After yesterday’s debacle at the airport I’ve placated the current Mrs. Snowman by doing something I’ve been putting off for a long time.
I finally went for my medical check-up.
Every year I have to endure an hour of poking and prodding by a sadistic white-coated doctor who then tells me with a worrying tone of sadness that I’m ok. This stems from a time a few years ago when I had kidney stones, an ailment which rears its head every now and again. The wife has been nagging me for ages to get it done so I thought several million Brownie points could be scored after the airport incident.
You should all know however, the reason for my reluctance.
The check-up involves an internal examination.
Obviously this is not something I would go through by choice so you shouldn’t be surprised to hear I was twenty minutes late arriving at the surgery.
I’m herded into the consultation room and before I had a chance to ask any questions, the doctor gets things underway with a blood test and the words “You might feel a little prick”.
A little prick?
I felt a complete arsehole.
Standing in a gown that does up from the back leaving my bare buttocks on display to any nurse who decides to wander in didn’t do much to boost my confidence.. Besides, when taking blood, it doesn’t feel like a scratch or a prick, it feels like precisely what it is…a needle being pushed into your arm.
But these are not the words that filled me with dread…the far scarier ones were still to come:
“This may feel a little uncomfortable”
I’m made to bend over the examination couch as the doctor snapped on a pair of latex gloves and reached for a tube of petroleum jelly.
“I’m just going to insert a finger so try and relax”
What?
How the fuck am I supposed to relax after a sentence like that?
I didn’t get much time to reflect on the question as without further ado my annual encroachment started.
It felt like a telegraph pole was being shoved up my backside and just when I thought my poor arse couldn’t take no more he started to wiggle his finger around. I didn’t know exactly what he was looking for but if he tried to get any further up he would probably be able to pull out my tonsils through my bottom.
His finger was finally retracted and a squelching pop indicated he’d finished.
I could start to breath again.
I buried my head into the pillow and decided not to turn around just in case he was doing something awful like zipping his pants up or licking his fingers.
This brings me to an important point. We trust doctors because they have medical degrees but how can we be certain they are who they say they are? We never question their propriety. Ok, there are some impressive framed qualifications on the wall but how do we know they belong to the person performing the procedure?
For all I know my examination could have been performed by the man who delivered the sandwiches and simply put on a white coat to enjoy his hobby during his lunch break.
Next year I’m taking two witnesses, a legal representative and a video camera.
I drove home very slowly and sat on a couple of cushions for a few hours while my bum returned to its normal state.
Understandably I didn’t much feel like playing any poker so my bankroll remained exactly as it was at close of business yesterday. We have to make another trip back to the airport tomorrow so the tournament opportunities may be quite limited but if I manage to play any I will of course keep you up to date.
I expect to get my usual clean bill of health in writing sometime over the next week and can only be thankful I have to endure such degradation once in a twelve month period. I guess really I should be thankful there’s nothing afflicting my testicles or penis.
Fuck knows what fun they could have with them.
Starting bank: $0
Current bank: $14.61
I finally went for my medical check-up.
Every year I have to endure an hour of poking and prodding by a sadistic white-coated doctor who then tells me with a worrying tone of sadness that I’m ok. This stems from a time a few years ago when I had kidney stones, an ailment which rears its head every now and again. The wife has been nagging me for ages to get it done so I thought several million Brownie points could be scored after the airport incident.
You should all know however, the reason for my reluctance.
The check-up involves an internal examination.
Obviously this is not something I would go through by choice so you shouldn’t be surprised to hear I was twenty minutes late arriving at the surgery.
I’m herded into the consultation room and before I had a chance to ask any questions, the doctor gets things underway with a blood test and the words “You might feel a little prick”.
A little prick?
I felt a complete arsehole.
Standing in a gown that does up from the back leaving my bare buttocks on display to any nurse who decides to wander in didn’t do much to boost my confidence.. Besides, when taking blood, it doesn’t feel like a scratch or a prick, it feels like precisely what it is…a needle being pushed into your arm.
But these are not the words that filled me with dread…the far scarier ones were still to come:
“This may feel a little uncomfortable”
I’m made to bend over the examination couch as the doctor snapped on a pair of latex gloves and reached for a tube of petroleum jelly.
“I’m just going to insert a finger so try and relax”
What?
How the fuck am I supposed to relax after a sentence like that?
I didn’t get much time to reflect on the question as without further ado my annual encroachment started.
It felt like a telegraph pole was being shoved up my backside and just when I thought my poor arse couldn’t take no more he started to wiggle his finger around. I didn’t know exactly what he was looking for but if he tried to get any further up he would probably be able to pull out my tonsils through my bottom.
His finger was finally retracted and a squelching pop indicated he’d finished.
I could start to breath again.
I buried my head into the pillow and decided not to turn around just in case he was doing something awful like zipping his pants up or licking his fingers.
This brings me to an important point. We trust doctors because they have medical degrees but how can we be certain they are who they say they are? We never question their propriety. Ok, there are some impressive framed qualifications on the wall but how do we know they belong to the person performing the procedure?
For all I know my examination could have been performed by the man who delivered the sandwiches and simply put on a white coat to enjoy his hobby during his lunch break.
Next year I’m taking two witnesses, a legal representative and a video camera.
I drove home very slowly and sat on a couple of cushions for a few hours while my bum returned to its normal state.
Understandably I didn’t much feel like playing any poker so my bankroll remained exactly as it was at close of business yesterday. We have to make another trip back to the airport tomorrow so the tournament opportunities may be quite limited but if I manage to play any I will of course keep you up to date.
I expect to get my usual clean bill of health in writing sometime over the next week and can only be thankful I have to endure such degradation once in a twelve month period. I guess really I should be thankful there’s nothing afflicting my testicles or penis.
Fuck knows what fun they could have with them.
Starting bank: $0
Current bank: $14.61