RANDOMODDNESS

The perfect combination of Testosterone and Humor

Thursday · December 13, 2001 · 02:21 PM

(with apologies to Erin).

Okay, I told you about my trip to get an exam last year. This year I decide to do it again. Not to get felt up – I just figure I should get something for the money I’m dumping into the health care system. Anyway, under the guise of “if it’s free, it’s for me”, I went to see the doctor. Maureen had retired (mysteriously right after fondling me) and I had to find a new doctor. I have very exacting standards for a doctor and it took me a little while to locate the nearest doctor to my house.

Well, it turns out that Doctor Menon is male. I’ll cut to the end of our appointment and tell you he didn’t check the boys. In fact I didn’t take off my clothes, which was nice. A guy likes to be romanced a little first. Well, I mean some guys do. I’m a fan of the hot steamy sex half way through the first date. Hell, maybe before the first date.

Anyway, this time I decided to test for everything possible. As long as the tests are free, I might as well take them – it’s not like I had to study or anything.

They have a nurse take some blood and ask what I wanted to be tested for. So I listed them in alphabetical order (anemia, balkosis, cholera, diabetes, encephalitis, etc). I get down to rickets or scurvy and the nurse stopped me.

She pointed out that everything that I get tested for goes on my permanent record If I try to get a life insurance policy, the insurance company will check my records and think I’m a hypochondriac. They’re looking for any excuse to not cover people…

Oh well, I got “the usual”. Not very exciting (although I got to pee in a cup – that was a little fun). “Come back in a few weeks for the results.” Fine.

A few weeks later, the doctor looked over a printout from the lab and asked if I felt bloated. I told him “no, but sometimes I have that not so fresh feeling”. Luckily he’s from another country where they don’t have commercials. Or he’s polite and decided not to laugh. Or maybe it wasn’t very funny.

Either way, he told me that I’m missing some random stomach chemical that could cause bloating, yada yada. Not sure if it’s deadly or not – if I start bloating I’ll let you guys know. Maybe I could burst at some point. I’ll try to aim away from the computer equipment – it’s tough to get blood out of keyboards (man, remind me to tell you that story sometime).

Winds up my cholesterol is “abnormally” low. You’d think they would prescribe Wendy’s to raise it, but no. Wonder if my health plan would cover the cost of a Quarter Pounder and french fries.

The other odd thing that he mentioned is that my testosterone is “dangerously high”. They thought it was so odd they checked it twice.

I didn’t know that could happen. I’m a normal guy. Sit around in front of the computer a little too much, but try to make up for it by going to the gym (which I manage to go once or twice a week… er, maybe once or twice a year).

I eat pretty normal; my weight is normal (maybe a little low for being six foot tall). I’m just completely normal.

The doctor asks if my sex drive is normal. I didn’t know how to answer that. I mean was he asking how often I wanted sex? How often I had sex? What is normal when it comes to sex? (I know what’s not a normal part of sex – animals, vegetables, Bea Arthur.)

The doctor takes my hesitation as a sign of embarrassment and tries to get the details. I can’t articulate my thoughts and suddenly turn verbally dysfunctional (happens pretty often with me).

He broke it down, all clinical and such. Translated he wanted to know how often my pants got tight – morning wood was normal, but beyond that you shouldn’t pitch a tent unless aroused. Well, I’m normal there.

Good, he says. How often do you do it like they do it on the Discovery Channel (my words, not his)? I told him the answer (sorry, the number is too personal to share here). Then he wants to know if my erections last for “an hour or so”. I said sure, if you count the past three years combined.

I had a professional confirm that my sex-life was normal, which is a relief. I never really knew how normal I was.

Well, no big punch line here, but it’s occurred to me that I’ll have to find another doctor before I get a prostate exam. Dr Memon has rather large fingers…