Antique Embarrassment, Mildly Amusing, Modern Medicine

The Doctor’s Appointment

It is the unfortunate state of my being that a doctor’s appointment is a reason to get all gussied up – to shave, to shampoo, to lather, rinse and repeat. To wear nice underwear. I remember when getting gussied up meant cocktails and a good time that didn’t involve a speculum.

Nonetheless. I gussied for the good doctor and enjoyed a 45-minute Wiggles-free drive across the yonder reaches of the metroplex.

As I pulled up to the parking garage gate, I rolled down my window to get a ticket. To my left I saw a young man pulling a cart that was precariously laden with canned soft drinks. I held my breath and waited as he slowly lugged and coaxed the top-heavy cart in front of my car. It teetered, it groaned, it rocked. I breathed a sigh of relief when he finally cleared the gate. I impatiently pushed the big green button, the machine made one of those “Aaaaaant! You lose!” sounds and then spit a ticket at me. The gate went up and I grabbed my ticket anxious to get to my appointment on time.

Just then, soda boy decided that the laws of physics didn’t apply to him. With both hands on the handle, he bent his knees, put his butt into it and jerked the cart in an attempt to hoist the caravan of cokes up and over the curb. The load wavered back and forth in slow motion as though in an earthquake. I knew what was about to happen. I prayed for a different outcome. Then an avalanche of soft drinks tumbled off the cart, onto my car, under my car, into the parking garage and everywhere else. Of course.

What to do? I looked in my rearview mirror. Backing up was not an option. I already had my ticket and there were several cars behind me. The gate was up, but unless I wanted to run over soda boy, his cart and the mother lode of cola, I wasn’t going anywhere soon. Yet I considered it.

Had I a lick of sense, I would have just sat in the car and waited. But no. I did not have a lick of sense. Or a slurp or even a taste. I got my gussied up self out of the car and started hunting cans of soda like they were Easter eggs. And then in some spiteful combination of bad karma and physics, some of the cans started exploding.

Later that same day.

As I was sitting on the table in the doctor’s office wearing a paper gown and scraping dried Dr. Pepper off my ankles with my fingernail, I tried to explain to the nurse why my legs were sticky. She closed her eyes and held up one hand in the universal gesture that means “Shut. Up. Now.” She really didn’t want to know. “No need to explain,” she said. “We’ve seen it all.”

I wanted to explain. I needed to tell her that I don’t normally go out with sticky legs.

“But – but – but I gussied,” I stammered, “I showered! I shaved! I wore nice underwear!”

“I’m sure you did. The doctor will be with you shortly.” And with that she left the room.

Unless he’s serving cocktails next year, I’m not going to bother to gussy. I’ll just spritz a little Dr. Pepper on my legs and be done with it.

35 thoughts on “The Doctor’s Appointment

  1. Oh sweet mercy, I just woke up my son and all the neighbors laughing so loud!! This was so hallarious, but I am so proud of you for at least helping soda guy. You are sweet. I can just picture that nurse when you were trying to explain the sticky legs!! LOLLLLLLLLLLL.

  2. You are just flat out wonderful. I read your posts out loud to my husband, so we can laugh together. Next time something like that happens to you (I know it will), just tell the crabby nurse that you need a nice washcloth and towel, because somehow you got Dr. Pepper stuck all over you as you ran thru the soda fountain in the parking garage. Let her figure out where it is.

  3. I, too, am a “gussier”. I found out the mortifying way that FDS and body glitter spray come in very similar-sized cans and that I’m really never in such a hurry that I shouldn’t read a label.

    That’s all I’m sayin’.

  4. I think that the nurse needs to take a chill pill. As much as a visit to the dr costs they should be required by law to listen to any story or explaination you want to make about the Dr. Pepper on your legs.

    After hearing your story my husband would faint over the loss of good DP.

  5. Ahhhhh…just another Mary Tyler Moore day, huh? πŸ™‚ Soooooo funny!
    The part about hunting for DP cans like they were Easter eggs?? You could be onto something there…exploding DP cans and raining DP would make any Easter egg hunt more interesting!

  6. I feel sorry for that nurse…she could’ve gotten a good dose of endorphins rushing to her brain if she had only taken the time to listen to your hilarious story!

  7. Wow – gussy. You don’t hear that word thrown around much these days!
    Those yearly appointments are icky. But a good excuse to shave! The winter months I just let a coat grow on my legs and it keeps me warmer – at least that’s what I explain to astonished hubby.

  8. Kara,

    There were A LOT of loose cans and shrink wrapped cases of cans and a big metal cart, and then of course soda boy – stuff too big to drive over. Driving over them, although more my style, wasn’t really an option. And how would I explain to Antique Daddy a soda boy and a big metal cart stuck to my front grill? I couldn’t.

  9. That is absolutely the most unbelivable story but I totally believe it. It is something that could have happened to me. You have the kharma cloud that I have! At least your writing skills allow you to release it! You are great.

  10. So was your doctor jealous that another Dr got there before he did?

    Your comment about what a good time used to mean reminded me of myself. Back when I was having babies every other minute I sort of got used to having the Dr see all my glory on a regular basis. Then after Dawson was born and I went A WHOLE YEAR WITHOUT SEEING THE OB/GYN my next visit was a bit of a shock. I wasn’t used to it any more and it threw me a little when he went straight…well, you know where, and he didn’t even buy me a drink or anything.

    At least you got a drink first.

  11. Oh, the injustice! That obtuse nurse just missed herself a great story. I’m pretty sure she’s never heard that one before. That was awesome.

  12. Well…unless the nurse has heard another story where cans of Dr. Pepper explode all over the legs of an incoming patient then SHE HASN’T HEARD IT ALL and she needs to be the one who…ahem…shuts up. I’m just saying.

  13. I’d have cried over the waste of Dr. Pepper!
    I’ve also decided I don’t need to shave to see my doctor, hehe. He’s seen enough of me that I don’t need to shave anymore! LOL I don’t shave for my dh and he hasnt’ even seen as much of me as my dr. has. (I’ve had c-sections, he’s seen my guts, lol.)
    Besides, my husband is jealous that I go through all that gussying up for him and heaven forbid I chew a stick of gum!!! LOL
    Sorry your day was so chaotic, but we all appreciate the good laugh! My stories are so full of poopy talk that it isn’t as funny as yours,hehe. Real poop talk, not dirty talk.

  14. Duded up and accessorized with Dr. Pepper. Had this happened in Atlanta, it would only have been coke. co-cola. Nothing but. Had you been in Houston or Brownsville you might have been sweaty smelly not just DP aromified.

  15. This reminds me of an experience I had, except it involved church instead of the doctor’s office. I love Chick-fil-a barbecue sauce. Once I had an extra container of it and decided to keep it. Once. It had fallen in the floorboard, and when I was getting out of the car at church the heel of my shoe landed in it and barbecue sauce exploded up my leg. I took off my hose and threw them away, but there was no getting rid of that smell.

    Everyone around me must have been anxious to get to lunch after that service, but I just wanted a shower.

  16. Oh, SO funny! I can’t wait to share this with hubby . . . who is a dr. I’m always trying to tell him how horrible it is to be on the other side; at least he’ll get a laugh out of this one!

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