getting a physical, hoping not to show off my balls
I think I am getting sick...
And ever since I started working as a policeman I have developed some major issues with germs. Mostly I am a borderline hypochondriac, and seeing as the safest possible place for me is the doctor's office, I went today. I like doctors’ offices. I like going to the doctor. I even, to an extent, like getting examined. There are few more satisfying feelings to me than to know that I am healthy. It is especially satisfying because I abuse my body so much and still continue to be healthy - kinda like saying, “Fuck you Death - I eat something with the word ‘cream’ in it twice per meal, and I’m still healthy! Bitch! You ain’t got nothing on me!”
But my hypochondria is selective. Most hypochondriacs will take any abnormality or difference in their bodies as a symptom of some terminal illness. I don’t feel this way that often. Sure, sometimes my heart will start beating very rapidly out of nowhere and I’ll think to myself, “Oh my god - am I having a heart attack?”, but then I’ll realize that an increased heart rate is a natural response to playing with yourself in the shower (the high temperature of the water and steam also increases heart rate) and I’ll just continue plugging away.
The reason why I’m not a very good hypochondriac is that when I have actual, legitimate symptoms, I don’t acknowledge them or do anything about them. For about two months, I had been having heartburn every single day. It would come on in the early afternoon, and affect me in varying degrees throughout the day and evening, giving me problems sleeping (I’ve pretty much given up on the idea of ever sleeping normally again - more on this later).
I thought nothing of this constant heartburn. After dinner, I’d make small pain noises and rub my chest, and my roommate would say, “Um, dude, maybe you should go see a doctor? Also, could you pay me back the $700 you owe for bills? Because I kinda need that.” I’d feel the heartburn when I was out drinking, and still keep pounding those Bud Lights, vodka tonics, Tom Collinses, quarts of gasoline - you know, whatever was put in front of me. Every time I yawn, stretch, sneeze, cough, sigh, or make a sudden movement, I’ve felt as though someone is squeezing the right side of my body from the inside. Not only that, but every time I poop or pee at school, I use the bathroom four floors up and take the stairs (this and this alone is how I managed to keep from being entirely obese, Mildly obese is just fine for me, thank you very much). Four floors is perfect; it leaves me winded, but not so much that I’m either sweating through my clothes or panting at the urinal while someone is peeing next to me and terrified. But lately I’ve noticed that I’ve gotten winded around the second flight of stairs, which is earlier than usual. It’s also been difficult and painful to catch my breath.
So after many months of awkward pain and sleeplessness I went to the doctor. I now have a new doctor, because my old one was super creepy. He happens to be the worst doctor in the world. Well, I can't say that for sure, because there are probably some Shaman doctors in Madagascar or some of those Mexico-type countries that are worse, but he's definitely the worst in the tri-state area. I hated my old doctor, because he was very disinterested. Also, one time during an examination while checking in my ears, I noticed he was playing with himself. I let it slide when the time before he whispered, “$5 sucky sucky?”, but this was the last straw. My new doctor only has one downside, and it is his biggest problem, he has some-what attractive, 20 something year old med students running around doing all his tough work (it like a dentist office, where you never actually see the real dentist until the very end, and then all he does is tell you to floss more because your gums are bleeding).
The thought of having a reasonably attractive med student in her mid-20's give me a physical was, to say the least, discomforting. Bear in mind, I am a man whose only goal during making out is not to please the woman unfortunate enough to be present or even to please himself, but to keep as many clothes on as possible.
In this state I went to the doctor's today, and sure enough, Racquel, a 26 year-old med student, came into the room. I immediately tensed up, but I was able to relax a bit over time, making small talk and stupid jokes. And she seemed pretty cool - as long as she stayed away from "the goods", I knew we wouldn't have a problem. We talked for a few minutes about school and life and then it occured to me "I'm flirting with this girl, and she's seconds away from putting her hands on my balls." At that point, she said, "Can you lay down please?"
Fuck.
This is the point where the doctor usually checks the abdomen and the balls (at least from what I remember from my last physical). So I laid down, and as she prepared to lift my "gown", she said:
Girl med student: "Are you wearing underwear?"
Me: "Wait - what day is it?"
GMS: [confused] "Um, Tuesday?"
Me: "Ok, then yes. Yes I am."
Then we all had a laugh and she gave me a vicious blowjob.
Ok, that didn't happen. That would have been REALLY cool if it did though. What did happen is that she wound up not checking my balls (just checked my stomach), which is fine with me.
One other thing: prior to going into the office: I filled out a form in the waiting room about what problems I've had, allergies, symptoms, etc. One of the questions was, "Do you drink?"
Yes.
The follow-up was, "How much?"
I wasn't sure what to put or how to quantify what I drank, so I put "a goodly amount", mostly because I really like the word "goodly."
Racquel didn't catch this the first time around, and after she left and I was dressing, she came back and knocked on the door and said,
Racquel: "I noticed on the form that you wrote that you drank 'a goodly amount' - can you explain that a little bit?"
Me: "Well, I didn't know how to quantify it - do you want a day? a week?"
Racquel: "Let's say a week - how many drinks do you have a week?"
Me: "That depends on the week really. The weather's been nice and my friends and I have been going out a lot, so that inflates the number a lot..."
Racquel: "Just the average."
Me: "I don't know...if I go out three nights a week, I'd say I'd have fifty drinks." (hugely over estimated)
Racquel: [silence for about three seconds] "Fifty?"
Me: "Yeah - but it takes a lot to get me drunk."
Racquel: "Is this something you want to continue?"
Me: "Drinking? Pretty much, yeah."
Stupid move. I got a lecture for the next five minutes about the hazards of drinking from a girl who's a year older than me, and who obviously doesn't drink. It was at this point that I realized that Racquel and I could never be together. Too bad.
But overall, except for a little bit of high blood pressure, I am in amazingly good health. Keep in mind that this is just physical health though - the jury is still out on the psychological/emotional/mental health status.
So there is officially something wrong with me, but I am physically healthy and the pain I am having continues at this time. according to my doctor, who went to Duke Medical School and is 100% Jewish, "there is something wrong with you, but I'm just not sure what." well shit.
So, let’s recap for all the ladies out there:
Pros:
- No STD’s ( Because of the obesity)
- Semi-rich, or at least willing to spend large sums of money for affection
- Plays guitar (Poorly)
- Speaks a bunch of languages (and by a bunch I mean one)
- No major family history of disease
- Easily manipulated
- Will never be unfaithful (though not for lack of trying)
- Awesome website
- Own bathroom, with matching hand towels
- National Merit Scholar semi-finalist
Cons:
- The opposite of good-looking
- Obese, or “husky”
- Racist, sexist, anti-Semitic
- Insecure, unambitious
- Insignificant sex drive
- Completely insane family
- Prone to fits of jealous rage, depression
- Have betrayed or will betray everyone close to me
- Refuse to let anyone around me be happy since I am not
- If given the chance, would trade you for some vanilla pudding in the blink of an eye
Again, I’m not asking for an answer now - just think about it.
I havent gotten as many emails as i used to on here, but those of you who do, its great - keep them coming (because I have so few friends in real life). I would do things to make this better, but that requires both creativity AND hard work, and, well…
Anyway, thanks for the emails, and I will respond to them all, though my responses may not make much sense or contain only curse words.
WIth good Friday coming up there is another weekend finally upon us, so remember:
1) Don’t drink and drive
2) Try a new drug or cocktail
3) Thank your dad for making you the codeine-addicted, overweight, insecure, gambling mess you are today
[Wait, that last one’s what I should thank my dad for. Sorry.]
And ever since I started working as a policeman I have developed some major issues with germs. Mostly I am a borderline hypochondriac, and seeing as the safest possible place for me is the doctor's office, I went today. I like doctors’ offices. I like going to the doctor. I even, to an extent, like getting examined. There are few more satisfying feelings to me than to know that I am healthy. It is especially satisfying because I abuse my body so much and still continue to be healthy - kinda like saying, “Fuck you Death - I eat something with the word ‘cream’ in it twice per meal, and I’m still healthy! Bitch! You ain’t got nothing on me!”
But my hypochondria is selective. Most hypochondriacs will take any abnormality or difference in their bodies as a symptom of some terminal illness. I don’t feel this way that often. Sure, sometimes my heart will start beating very rapidly out of nowhere and I’ll think to myself, “Oh my god - am I having a heart attack?”, but then I’ll realize that an increased heart rate is a natural response to playing with yourself in the shower (the high temperature of the water and steam also increases heart rate) and I’ll just continue plugging away.
The reason why I’m not a very good hypochondriac is that when I have actual, legitimate symptoms, I don’t acknowledge them or do anything about them. For about two months, I had been having heartburn every single day. It would come on in the early afternoon, and affect me in varying degrees throughout the day and evening, giving me problems sleeping (I’ve pretty much given up on the idea of ever sleeping normally again - more on this later).
I thought nothing of this constant heartburn. After dinner, I’d make small pain noises and rub my chest, and my roommate would say, “Um, dude, maybe you should go see a doctor? Also, could you pay me back the $700 you owe for bills? Because I kinda need that.” I’d feel the heartburn when I was out drinking, and still keep pounding those Bud Lights, vodka tonics, Tom Collinses, quarts of gasoline - you know, whatever was put in front of me. Every time I yawn, stretch, sneeze, cough, sigh, or make a sudden movement, I’ve felt as though someone is squeezing the right side of my body from the inside. Not only that, but every time I poop or pee at school, I use the bathroom four floors up and take the stairs (this and this alone is how I managed to keep from being entirely obese, Mildly obese is just fine for me, thank you very much). Four floors is perfect; it leaves me winded, but not so much that I’m either sweating through my clothes or panting at the urinal while someone is peeing next to me and terrified. But lately I’ve noticed that I’ve gotten winded around the second flight of stairs, which is earlier than usual. It’s also been difficult and painful to catch my breath.
So after many months of awkward pain and sleeplessness I went to the doctor. I now have a new doctor, because my old one was super creepy. He happens to be the worst doctor in the world. Well, I can't say that for sure, because there are probably some Shaman doctors in Madagascar or some of those Mexico-type countries that are worse, but he's definitely the worst in the tri-state area. I hated my old doctor, because he was very disinterested. Also, one time during an examination while checking in my ears, I noticed he was playing with himself. I let it slide when the time before he whispered, “$5 sucky sucky?”, but this was the last straw. My new doctor only has one downside, and it is his biggest problem, he has some-what attractive, 20 something year old med students running around doing all his tough work (it like a dentist office, where you never actually see the real dentist until the very end, and then all he does is tell you to floss more because your gums are bleeding).
The thought of having a reasonably attractive med student in her mid-20's give me a physical was, to say the least, discomforting. Bear in mind, I am a man whose only goal during making out is not to please the woman unfortunate enough to be present or even to please himself, but to keep as many clothes on as possible.
In this state I went to the doctor's today, and sure enough, Racquel, a 26 year-old med student, came into the room. I immediately tensed up, but I was able to relax a bit over time, making small talk and stupid jokes. And she seemed pretty cool - as long as she stayed away from "the goods", I knew we wouldn't have a problem. We talked for a few minutes about school and life and then it occured to me "I'm flirting with this girl, and she's seconds away from putting her hands on my balls." At that point, she said, "Can you lay down please?"
Fuck.
This is the point where the doctor usually checks the abdomen and the balls (at least from what I remember from my last physical). So I laid down, and as she prepared to lift my "gown", she said:
Girl med student: "Are you wearing underwear?"
Me: "Wait - what day is it?"
GMS: [confused] "Um, Tuesday?"
Me: "Ok, then yes. Yes I am."
Then we all had a laugh and she gave me a vicious blowjob.
Ok, that didn't happen. That would have been REALLY cool if it did though. What did happen is that she wound up not checking my balls (just checked my stomach), which is fine with me.
One other thing: prior to going into the office: I filled out a form in the waiting room about what problems I've had, allergies, symptoms, etc. One of the questions was, "Do you drink?"
Yes.
The follow-up was, "How much?"
I wasn't sure what to put or how to quantify what I drank, so I put "a goodly amount", mostly because I really like the word "goodly."
Racquel didn't catch this the first time around, and after she left and I was dressing, she came back and knocked on the door and said,
Racquel: "I noticed on the form that you wrote that you drank 'a goodly amount' - can you explain that a little bit?"
Me: "Well, I didn't know how to quantify it - do you want a day? a week?"
Racquel: "Let's say a week - how many drinks do you have a week?"
Me: "That depends on the week really. The weather's been nice and my friends and I have been going out a lot, so that inflates the number a lot..."
Racquel: "Just the average."
Me: "I don't know...if I go out three nights a week, I'd say I'd have fifty drinks." (hugely over estimated)
Racquel: [silence for about three seconds] "Fifty?"
Me: "Yeah - but it takes a lot to get me drunk."
Racquel: "Is this something you want to continue?"
Me: "Drinking? Pretty much, yeah."
Stupid move. I got a lecture for the next five minutes about the hazards of drinking from a girl who's a year older than me, and who obviously doesn't drink. It was at this point that I realized that Racquel and I could never be together. Too bad.
But overall, except for a little bit of high blood pressure, I am in amazingly good health. Keep in mind that this is just physical health though - the jury is still out on the psychological/emotional/mental health status.
So there is officially something wrong with me, but I am physically healthy and the pain I am having continues at this time. according to my doctor, who went to Duke Medical School and is 100% Jewish, "there is something wrong with you, but I'm just not sure what." well shit.
So, let’s recap for all the ladies out there:
Pros:
- No STD’s ( Because of the obesity)
- Semi-rich, or at least willing to spend large sums of money for affection
- Plays guitar (Poorly)
- Speaks a bunch of languages (and by a bunch I mean one)
- No major family history of disease
- Easily manipulated
- Will never be unfaithful (though not for lack of trying)
- Awesome website
- Own bathroom, with matching hand towels
- National Merit Scholar semi-finalist
Cons:
- The opposite of good-looking
- Obese, or “husky”
- Racist, sexist, anti-Semitic
- Insecure, unambitious
- Insignificant sex drive
- Completely insane family
- Prone to fits of jealous rage, depression
- Have betrayed or will betray everyone close to me
- Refuse to let anyone around me be happy since I am not
- If given the chance, would trade you for some vanilla pudding in the blink of an eye
Again, I’m not asking for an answer now - just think about it.
I havent gotten as many emails as i used to on here, but those of you who do, its great - keep them coming (because I have so few friends in real life). I would do things to make this better, but that requires both creativity AND hard work, and, well…
Anyway, thanks for the emails, and I will respond to them all, though my responses may not make much sense or contain only curse words.
WIth good Friday coming up there is another weekend finally upon us, so remember:
1) Don’t drink and drive
2) Try a new drug or cocktail
3) Thank your dad for making you the codeine-addicted, overweight, insecure, gambling mess you are today
[Wait, that last one’s what I should thank my dad for. Sorry.]
posted by Brad at
5:26 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home