sweaty palms
when i walked into my doctor’s office one day last week at 9am, there were already 4 other women waiting - great, always a good sign that i’d be lucky to leave before lunch. surprisingly, i was pretty calm in the waiting room where i read a magazine outlining all the dresses on the red carpet at the emmy’s this year which was good since i was working and not paying attention. vanessa williams… um hello?!?! what was she thinking?
when they called my name and took me to the back the nurse weighed me - always a horrifying procedure on an ancient scale. maybe she was trying to spare my feelings or wanted me to think i appeared thinner than i am because she started the weights on the scale measure at 100lbs. this meant that the whole weigh-in procedure took an eternity instead of just a few seconds. she patiently pushed the weights ever so slowly through each notch measuring just fractions of a pound until i couldn’t take it anymore. i intervened and pushed the heavy 25lb marker further to the right in the hope of ending my slow torture. i mean, i was in a hurry. i had a cup of coffee that morning and orange juice in preparation for my favorite part of these visits - the pee in the cup humiliation that i so look forward to. much to my surprise i was not asked to give a urine sample. (see my last embarrassing trip to the doctor for a full account.)
they took my blood pressure and left me alone in an exam room where i waited for the doctor. i could hear him go from room to room and the murmur of his voice in the halls between each exam. each time it sounded like he was back in the hall, i’d sit up a little straighter thinking i was next. i sat there trying not to look at all the diagrams and other medical posters on the walls in order to keep my panic level as low as possible. can i just tell you how hard that is when you’re sitting in an 8′ x 10′ room for 20 minutes?!
and because of my diligent preparation for my urine sample, i realized i had to pee as i sat there waiting. should i run through the halls with no pants on and hope no one witnessed my mad dash to the ladies’ room? should i get up and get dressed before going? what if the doctor walked in during that process? i mean, a state of half-dressed is much worse than him seeing me up close and personal during my exam! (clearly, i have mental problems.)
then i started thinking about writing this post and how i should whip out my camera and photograph the room to give all of you a better visual. every 5 minutes when i’d just about gotten up the nerve to jump off the bed to grab my camera out of my purse over by the door, i’d hear the doctor in the hall again and i’d jump back into my original position on the bed. and of course my nervousness at being caught bare-assed photographing the exam room is well warranted since i’m sure there are multiple laws against documenting one’s visit to one’s doctor.
when the doctor finally came to examine me, he found me sitting on the paper covered bed with the sweatiest palms in history. my exam hadn’t even started yet and already the protective paper was annihilated as if 2 tiger cubs had torn through the room during a playful romp. i sitting there trying to think of an excuse as to why i was sitting in the middle of a mess of paper - an excuse that drew all attention away from my sweaty palms which completely disintegrated all paper within a five mile radius. how could i convince him that i wasn’t the culprit, that i hadn’t accidentally shredded my surroundings, that he shouldn’t call for a psych consult?
but i didn’t even have time to open my mouth with a lame attempt at an excuse because he got right to work and before i knew it, he was smiling! this is the first time i’ve seen him smile all year. whew! that definitely put me at ease. finally! my stupid body is back to normal. sweet jesus!!
when my examination and blood tests were done, he left the room and in my calm state of almost perfect health, i gained the confidence to photograph my prison cell exam room to serve as a visual aid (after i cleaned up some of the debris.)
