It’s no secret that I have pee problems. They are well documented on this blog and in scandalous stories from my friends. Up until now I’ve only seen Gynecologist’s about my potty issues. It seems they’ve done all they can do so they referred me to a Urologist.
I thought Urologist’s were only for men. I know this because I’ve been in two different Urologist offices. The first, when Dallas had his vasectomy and the second, when John’s kidney imploded. Both offices made it clear they serviced men.
There were penises everywhere. Pictures of penises. Diagrams of penises. Life-size models of penises. I’d rather take Taryn to see Magic Mike than take her to the Urologist’s office.
Still, I was willing to give it a try. I had one condition, I didn’t want to see the same Doctor John saw. Since we go to the military hospital, we’re lucky if there are two specialists to choose from so I was happy to hear I had an option. My Gynecologist said it was no problem, she would refer me to the other doctor.
I really liked the Doctor who took care of John. He was smart, had a great bedside manner, and most importantly; he fixed my son. I’m eternally grateful to him. But I don’t want to talk about my pee problems to my son’s Doctor. I don’t want the same guy who has seen his junk to see mine.
So, no problem. They referred me to the other guy. I waited anxiously in the lobby, hoping John’s Doctor would not appear behind the desk. In the exam room I heard him outside the door talking to a nurse and could feel myself flush. It’s that embarrassing for me. Seriously.
I walked in a parade with a reindeer. I told all of you about my tummy tuck. Sometimes I got to the store at midnight with a scrunchy in my hair. But the idea of seeing the same Doctor as my teenage son completely freaked me out.
I saw the new Doctor. He was fine. We talked about options, he ordered some tests. He seemed to understand that it was uncomfortable for me. (Or he was also uncomfortable with the three penis statues and five penis posters in the room with us.) I was happy with the outcome of the visit.
While I was at the front desk making my next appointment the new Doctor came out to give me a prescription. I said thank you.
He said, “You’re welcome. How’s you’re son?”
What? WHAT? WTF?
“Didn’t your son injure his kidney a while back?”
“Ummm…yeah, he’s fine.”
Seriously? Seriously, isn’t there any confidentiality? Were the two Doctors sitting in the back comparing notes? Gross. Gross, gross…I’m not sure I can go back there.
P.S. The irony of talking about privacy on a public blog is not lost on me. Thanks.