Is It Hot in Here?

Bluffton Today column
May 11, 2011

I was pleasantly surprised at the doctor last week. I had mentally prepared myself to wait eons, which tends to be medical appointment status quo. So when I was called back by the nurse before I even had a chance to sit, I was ecstatic.

We ran through the standard elements of impending exam. I stepped on the scale, with eyes closed. (Why do I always weigh more at the doctor’s office?) Peed in the obligatory cup, with eyes open. And then settled in for another wait.

Alas, I was surprised again when the nurse quite honestly told me that the doctor was running a bit behind, so she would let me know when I could change. Yes! She was trying to save me from having to sit in a paper gown, with my rear hanging out, on a paper sheet, for an undetermined amount of time. Things were definitely going my way.

Much to my surprise the doctor came in just a minute later. I apologized for still being dressed and she said, “Relax. I know you’ve been to the practice before, but we haven’t met, so let’s talk.” (Really?) So, we talked. For almost 30 minutes. Now, I realize this probably made her late for her next appointment, but I was in healing heaven.

I almost didn’t want it to end, mainly because I knew that when our conversation concluded I would have to don the paper pageantry, for the real work to begin. So, as the chatter came to an end, I started getting uncomfortable and awfully sweaty. They keep the exam rooms at a warmer than usual temperature, for your comfort, while sitting in a paper dress. What I didn’t realize was that sitting in my street clothes for more than 30 minutes in the sweat box would cause some serious overheating.

Momentary relief came when I was able to finally (yes, finally! It is amazing how your perspective changes) change into the paper gown, however my dreams of a stress-free experience were quickly dashed the moment I sat on the exam table, and the paper “sheet” instantaneously affixed itself to my sweaty legs. (I really hope you aren’t trying to picture this.)

So, now I am stuck to the paper, waiting for the doctor to come back, and wondering how I am going to smoothly “slide down a bit” when she needs to get started (Ladies, you know the drill.). There’s no sliding when your hamstrings are hopelessly hitched to the paper.

Which led me to start thinking about the paper itself. The only thing keeping my bare a$$ from the germs of the person before me is a sheet of butcher paper. That seems less than hygienic.

The doctor re-emerged a few seconds into my conversation - with myself - about the less than sanitarily sound paper sheet, and then we were off. Yada. Yada. Yada. Exam over and now I need to extricate myself from the dissolving paper stuck to the backs of my legs. It wasn’t pretty.

This makes me wonder. With ever-evolving medical technology at our finger tips, isn’t there a twenty-something whiz kid out there somewhere who could invent something more medically adept than the same paper we use to pack our lunch? Come to think of it, I may be switching to Tupperware. Bon appetite!