Monday 17 December 2012

My Arse

If Friday represented me spending money to ultimately end up punished, today’s punishment was a freeby – more accurately it was courtesy of the National Health. Today I had my prostate checked which I am sure most people reading will realise involved a doctor sticking their finger in me via my arse.

I won’t bore people with my I had it checked. Needless to say it wasn’t because of the fine work of Britain’s male moustache growing population for the month (nonth) of Movember (November) – though, as said several times before, well done them. But last week I was in with a doctor about something else and she said I should probably get my prossy checked to be on the safe side – yes, having someone stick their finger in your arsehole CAN be the safe side, the world is a crazy place.

Did I need to make a special appointment? I asked. Apparently not. The doctor just said I would need to say whether I wanted a male or a female doctor. Now, I know that this choice is there to help people out who might be embarrassed but for me it represented somewhat of a conundrum: I definitely preferred the thought of it being a woman. I knew it was clinical – literally – and I knew it didn’t really matter to me. But if I had a choice then I definitely preferred to be debased and degraded (clinically) by a woman. But you can’t say that can you?

In the end the receptionist didn’t even ask me. And thanks them (doctors) all being show-off bastards all I had was Dr Whatever to go on. So, I didn’t know whether it was going to be Arthur or Martha. Naturally, it was a man of about my age. Which I think is the maximum awkwardness from a sociological sense. Though I would happily take this social awkwardness when the pay-off is a younger doctor – as I instinctively trust someone who isn’t an old person who hasn’t yet been diagnosed as senile but is senile enough to make the odd mistake. Of course then you lose out on the experience side of it all. I just have to trust that he has plenty of experience doing this.

If we ignore feelings and emotions – hey what’s new? I am a fucking man after all!!! LOLZ!! -being naked below the waist with my knees pulled up to my chest while another human being I had just met prepared to enter me with his finger is definitely the most vulnerable I have ever been. In the event it was over in flash and other than a moment of brief discomfort it wasn’t too bad. It also wasn’t too good. I wouldn’t say I was worried I would enjoy it – but I was curious as to whether I would like it. I can safely say I won’t be inventing hundreds of fake identities in order to get proctological exams on a bi-daily basis.

The good news was he said I had a fucking brilliant prostate. It was nice that there was no awkwardness afterwards. We just went for a coffee. There was no pressure of any commitment – we are just going to see where it goes from here.

AdvenChristmassal Imagery #17: Aluminium (or if you’re American, aluminum) Christmas Advert

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