January 27, 2012

It was the best of times; it was the worst of times. That pretty much sums up my last visit to my doctor's office. I've mentioned here several times about my doctor - Julie. A very knowledgeable and personable professional who really knew her stuff. She knew how to treat people and would sit down and talk to you in language that you could understand. She was a good doctor. Note that I said "was".

Yes, Julie has left us for greener pastures and there a lot of people besides me who will miss her. I'm not surprised that another facility has offered her a better deal than she had.

Yesterday I got to meet my new doctor. Her name is Kate and I was not all that happy to have her take over Julie's patients ... not this patient anyway. You see, Kate is an extremely good-looking young lady and I had reservations about her. I have found out in my lifetime of dealing with people that too many of these "extremely good-looking" ones are often shallow and depend on their looks and personality to get them by. I had the feeling that Kate fit in this mold.

When she first came into the examination room and introduced herself I was wary. But within just a few minutes she had me at ease and I was beginning to think that maybe I had misjudged her. Even though I had never talked to her before, she was up to date on my medical history and what medications I was on. She talked like an old friend and all too soon I was quite comfortable with her. At least I was until "the incident".

I was in to see her for my quarterly physical and she proceeded with care and dignity. She did all the right things and said the right things and I realized that Kate really did know her business. She did all the normal doctor poking and prodding and asking the right questions. I have seen enough doctors in the past fifteen years to know when one cares about you and when one is just doing the job. Kate really does care about her patients.

Just about the time I felt it was time to wrap everything up and head for the lab to have some blood drawn, Kate dropped the bomb. She told me to stand up and drop my pants for a prostate exam. Now just wait a cotton-pickin' minute! In the years that I was Julie's patient, she never did THAT! I was always turned over to a male doctor for that particular exam.

At first I thought that she was kidding me (I had been my normal, jovial self with her so I thought she was just getting into the spirit of the moment). But, no, by the way she was putting on the rubber gloves I knew instantly that she meant business.

Kate was perceptive and at my hesitation she looked at me and, with a tinkle in her eye, she said, "Oh, don't worry. I have small fingers."

Yeah, that's exactly what I was thinking about at that moment. My mind was more like, "Well, Joe, here you are - meeting an intelligent, good-looking young lady for the first time - and she wants to poke me in ... er ... a delicate place with her tiny fingers."

Well, we managed to get through the exam with no problems. Everything went well and is well. Even Lady Laura managed to watch the whole incident with laughing ... but she did smile a lot!

OK, now that my new doctor and I have become well acquainted, I'll be ready for the next time we meet. I'm going to discuss my sex life with her (such as it is for a 65-year-old). That'll get her wagon rolling.