Me Bum Bum!

“You drop your pants and put hands on table,” ordered the doctor.

“Huh?” I questioned.

“Final part of exam is prostate check.”

“I mean, I didn’t ask for that and didn’t know about it until now.”

“It’s part of exam. We have to.”

            Getting out of the military was a hilarious process.  Everyone out-processing has to get a physical so the VA can ASSess your health.  I was under the impression it would be a quick check up, but it turned into a day of probing… uncomfortable probing.  The physician who gave me my exam looked like Mr. Chow from the Hangover movies and spoke like him too.  So now I have an aggressive little man with an accent ordering me to drop my pants.

            I walked into a private room and dropped trou next to one of those elevated pleather seats with loud white paper on top of it.  A very attractive female nurse with a clipboard walked in and stood next to a counter that stretched the length of the wall.  All right, maybe this won’t be as bad as I thought and we’ll have some fun with this.  Then Mr. Chow walked in with his aggressive posture and strapped on latex gloves.  He then moved towards me with a tiny tube of lube.  I clinched as my eyes widened.  I guess the attractive nurse won’t be doing this task and I won’t be having a “Road Trip” moment.  Or would I?

            I turned to hold onto the seat and Mr. Chow went for it.  The process was awkward and physically uncomfortable.  He used a whole lot of lube and I definitely held a yuck face of disapproval the entire time.  When Mr. Chow was done violating me, I was expecting words of comfort or something like, “Everything checked out fine,” but this wasn’t the case. 

            The cute nurse turned to walk out with a slight smile on her face.  I bet she enjoyed the show.  As for Mr. Chow, he tossed his gloves in the trash and washed his hands.  My pants are still down, mind you.  He then grabbed a box of Kleenex’s and turned to me with his aggressive eyes.  Mr. Chow threw the box at my chest.  I didn’t even try to catch it.  The box hit me and fell to the pleather seat.  I looked at the box and then at Mr. Chow in confusion.

“You clean yo-self up!” he barked.

            Thanks for that Dr. Unprofessional.  He walked out and I never saw him again.  Mr. Chow did the exam, tossed some Kleenex’s at me from across the room, gave me orders and left me like a cheap whore.  Not that I know what a cheap whore feels like, but that might be close.  I was bewildered, but I “clean myself up” and walked to the front desk to the same smiling nurse.  She said I was good to go and I tried my best to normally walk out the door.  I got in my car and just sat there for a second.  Did that just happen?  It was a quiet ride back to my downtown Tacoma studio.