Today I had my first physical checkup in probably five years.
My wife and I were at her doctor last Monday, and she was telling us about fertility treatments that we could pursue. My second semen sample results came back the week before, and the doctor was going over the results. My semen sucks. Apparently, I have a lot of positive semen attributes, and one bad attribute. What’s positive? I deliver a good-sized specimen. Mobility is good. Density is good. There’s one more aspect that’s good; I can’t remember what it is. Lemme see, it wasn’t the flavor. I’ll think of it later.
What’s bad? My semen morphology is only 12% normal. The rest of those bastards are either tail-less, two tailed, two headed, no headed, no tailed or any mixture therein.
So the subject came up about my health and my last physical exam. I admitted what kind of failure I’ve been with yearly doctor visits. Tina’s doctor asked me if I had any issues with seeing a female doctor. “No,” I said. “A doctor’s a doctor.”
So today was the big day. I fasted since last night. I showered this morning. I shaved … my face, ya psychos.
I had all the regular physical procedures. Blood pressure. Weight. Temperature. Urine. Blood Letting.
Let me tell you. There’s really nothing better than a strange woman fondling your business. And I’m not talking fondle-lation in a sexual way. I’m talking the professional, doctoral kind of way. You know, the single finger pushed past the lower part of your member up into the pelvis bone scouring for a hernia?
There was a point where she asked me to hold “it” up so that she could get me to cough. I was surprised to see she was a little nervous.
When a female doctor checks a new male patient’s testicles, it requires a witness to be in the room. At first, I was self-centered, and I thought the witness in the room was for me and my safety. You know, as if I needed someone in the room to protect me from the doctor saying, “Oh, my! What a beautiful wonder you have placed before me! Let me please you for the betterment of mankind and my practice!”
But after the exam, I realized, the witness was for the doctor. It was so that douchbag who’s getting a physical doesn’t say, “Hey, while you’re down there, why don’t you blow me a bubble.” And by bubble, I don’t mean “bubble.”
I was glad the witness was there for both reasons. I’m glad my doctor didn’t want to better mankind, and that I didn’t tell my doctor to blow me a “bubble.”
The doctor made me feel comfortable, more than any doctor I’ve ever seen. When I first got to the appointment, I was nervous. And it showed. My first blood pressure result came back badly. It was 140 over 93. High blood pressure. Ack. I explained to the nurse that I was worried about my blood pressure, and it turned out nasty.
But after I saw my new doctor, she decided to redo my blood pressure. It was 130 over 80. This is good news.
Since I explained that I had worries about my blood pressure, my doctor did an EKG. The result worried my doctor a little. She learned that, if what I said about my blood pressure is true, my heart has been affected in a negative way. The more prolonged the high blood pressure, the more damage that could have been done. Apparently my lower left ventricle’s walls may have thickened. (Warning: this is my interpretation of the result, and is subject to the truth). With a thick left ventricle, comes heart damage.
My doctor asked that I get a cardiograph, which I’ve scheduled for Saturday. I’ll let you know how it goes.
I also had a prostate exam for the first time. It was definitely not as bad as I thought it was going to be. The lube that she used stuck with me for the rest of the day. I couldn’t get rid of it. I ran a little faster than usual on my jog this afternoon.
When I told my brother about it, he was like, “Why didn’t you ask what brand the lube was!?!”
Oh fuck me.
My blood pressure was good today. I’m really excited about that. I have to get the heart checked this weekend. I have to stop by the doctor’s office to get my blood pressure checked in the meantime. I’m hoping that yesterday was a good sign
I’ll have to revisit this post at a later. I’ll have to fill you in on our fertility efforts and how it is to masturbate in a cup, be fondled by a doctor person of the opposite sex, fingered, and still live to tell about it.
Go with science.