Oh my goodness, it was time for Pam and me to have our regular visit to our dermatologist to see what had been growing on our bodies recently. Pam has little skin things and tiny moles that have been diagnosed as “questionable” and I have like rash patches and skin tags here and there…but usually no big deal. We are always checked out by our doctor together and so it’s like a little event at the offices there. I don’t know if this is an indication but everyone in the receptionist’s area kinda light up, you know, sorta like when you are opening Christmas presents and stuff like that. I think their exuberance had something to do with what happened last time we came.
We were taken into the examining room and asked to put on our blue paper negligee….you know…the ones that have the flimsy strings that always tear off while you become a contortionist trying to tie them. Well, this fine day I had changed into “the gown” and was waiting. All of a sudden I had to go to the bathroom…that happens more frequently the older you get. I was trying to decide if I should …make that trip… or wait until we were done. Pam said, “You better go now rather than in the middle of the examination. That would be so weird if she had to stop and wait for you to do that.”
Pam was right, so I timidly opened the door to see if the coast was clear. Unfortunately for me, the coast was NOT clear at all. As I stepped out, a lady with her little boy was walking past our door and I said, “ Hi there.” Well some things are better left unsaid in some situations…in particular…when you’re standing in a blue paper gown. The woman gave me a dirty look and quickened her pace as she nervously yanked the little boy’s arm behind her. Not a good start….Yah…not good. I ambled out of the room and a nurse came up to me and asked me what I needed, and I explained I needed to find a bathroom. Much to my dismay, the closest bathroom was being occupied by a patient who had gotten sick, and the nurse told me the next bathroom was located down a long hall and then after a left turn, halfway down the next hallway. It seemed really far away to me.
It was then that my Norwegian logic perked up and I thought I remembered seeing a bathroom right near the main door of the third floor offices, and it was much closer. So without consulting anyone, I walked to the door leading to the reception area and opened it to a room full of patients who were just checking in. Suddenly I realized that I had forgotten I was in my blue flowing paper peignoir and had not shall we say, “wrapped things up” on the backside. My underwear was in full cinematic view. WHOOPS!!!!
I rushed out into the hall holding the back of my fitted paper towel to find the bathroom I thought was near….only to realize that I’d seen it on the main floor and not the floor I was on. Oh, man!!! People were getting off the elevators and when they saw me standing there with my hand behind my back striking a hopeless stare…I knew that they were thinking this is an escapee from somewhere and they should just stay out of his way. One lady who was bent over as she walked out of the elevator with her cane, took one look at me, and immediately stood fully erect like someone who just got the touch of Jesus at a faith healing service. Bam…she was outta there.
Unsuccessful, I went back into the reception area, but now it looked like a room full of patients with Graves disease with their eyes all bugged out and everything. By this time the the only thing missing for the receptionists and some staff members was popcorn and a coke. Oh yah, I was the main reluctant attraction and I hadn’t even made it to the bathroom yet. Man…I had to go…BAD!!!!
I went back into the examination area, ran down the hall, made the left turn and finally found relief. That was a close call. I went to wash my hands, and accidentally spilled water on my gown in the most unfortunate area. Now I’m puling my gown up and blowing on the water spot and a man walks in with my gown lifted up and puffing away. He immediately retreats out of the bathroom like he’s just met Master Flasher. I’m beyond exasperated and I no longer have any more shame left to spare.
I made it back to the room and said to Pam…”There…that WASN’T so easy was it?” She asked me what that meant and I told her my unfolding saga. “You just don’t think before you do something, do you, Greg?” “I do sometimes.”…Pam popped back…”Yah, just not at the RIGHT times.” Just then our doctor came in and greeted us. She is a sweetheart of a doctor and very thorough. Pam went first and they talked about girl stuff and what she was noticing on Pam’s body. “Looking pretty good, girl” the doctor said…Next up Mr. Nelson.”
Well I think she waits for me last because my stomach is shall we say, mucho bizarro, easily passing as a miniature crime scene. I have five marking scars from holes made by multiple robotic prostate and appendectomy surgeries…complete with a 4-inch “Frankenstein” scar from my recent double hernia surgery. Hey, just a glimpse of my poor tummy is at best traumatic amusement …and more akin to a Captain Crunch treasure map. There’s no fixing that. (Frankly, the thought of repairing this visual calamitywould be easily enough to throw any great plastic surgeon into a spiraling depression…. and before surgery find his support team singing “The Impossible Dream to the top of there lungs.
Well, at least I’m never bored going to the dermatologist….and that’s because it’s the only doctor’s office where Pam and I receive multiple requests from the employees to “Hurry back real soon.” They must be really hard up for entertainment around there. Yeah, come to think of it, it’s the only place the entertainment ends up paying the audience. That just ain’t right. SHEESH!!!