Phase II of the flight physical today. In the room alone with the doctor, the stethoscope and the tube of cold jelly.
Oh, the indignity!
So many things get better in the Navy, as one grows more senior. Your jokes get funnier. You get a nice parking place. Everyone calls you “sir,” and very often they appear to mean it. Which is a tremendous improvement from ensign days, let me tell you. People tend to be nicer in general, even solicitious at times: “Would you care for the VIP room, Captain?”
“Why yes. Yes I would.”
You could get full of yourself, if you weren’t careful. All puffed up, even. But in a flight physical follow-up on the wrong side of forty, you are not offered the VIP treatment. Oh no, my son, not at all – not if it were ever so. In fact, it begins to appear as though this is how they let the hot air out:
“Elbows on the table, grandad. You know what to do.”
You: Did the fact that your doctor was a fetching lass of some thirty-odd summers do nothing to mitigate the intense position of moral disadvantage you found yourself in, Lex?
Me: It did not, Gentle Reader. To a surprising degree, it did not.
You: Were you at all concerned when the conversation, pre-… well, you know – when the conversation turned to how difficult it could be to be a female flight surgeon in a male dominated world at times?
Me: I will confess to a moment’s Seinfeldian angst at where this might take us, Gentle Reader.
You: Because of the payback potential?
Me: Precisely.
You: Ah.
Me:
You: Oh, right – it’s still my go. Was it cold in the room, Lex?
Me: Oh so very.
You: And because of that, did you experience any…
Me: That’s quite enough, I think!
So. 364 days and a wake-up.
At least she had small hands.
Absolutely classic.
“Shrinkage!” — my own mother, a woman of nearly 5 decades now, didn’t ever hear of it until my dad and I explained that very Seinfeld commercial to her.
Seriously.
Jackpot! You lucky dog!
Aye, Aye…yiy!
Link: Neptunus Lex – So. Our favorite Navy captain reminisces among the grimaces of digital indignities. Everyone calls you “sir,” and very often they appear to mean it. Which is a tremendous improvement from ensign days.He who never was a
I admire a man who’s not afraid to discuss lubricant and its many uses on a public forum…. especially when he was just on the receiving end of one of those uses.
*giggling… just thinking about you being told to “bend over, boy!” by a cute chick*
damn, i always get the one with short stubby fingers and fat knuckles…
and exactly why can’t the jelly be pre-heated?
Oh the joys I miss now that I’m retired. If you think this is bad, wait until you are old enough for a colonoscopy, sir!
small hands – this is exactly why my husband prefers female doctors
and as for cold KY? Welcome to the fun – us gals get to do that every year as well – cold instruments – cold KY….I think the docs get a perverse pleasure in hearing us yip!
You know they’ve got a type of KY that warms up now? I might have to take it along when I get to that age.
I always hated those exams until an aquaintance had prostate cancer…….Now the whole thing just does not seem so bad after all.
However it did always make me wonder what those who practice the love that dare not speak its name ever saw in it……..
[...] So it’s two days after I got turned inside out by a flight surgeon in celebration of my 45th birthday, and today I wake up with a sore throat. [...]
So does this mean you’ll be roaring into the wild blue again soon ? Disregard the MCPO’s dire rumblings about the post-50 snakey thing. These days it’s done with a healthy shot of sedation. In between “Now roll onto your side” and “Sir, wake up” the slate is totally, blissfully blank. At least that’s how it’s done out here in the pussified civilian world.
Yes, the day and night before are uncomfortable and icky – but when you come out with a clean bill you know you’re done with that for 10 years. Not many things you can say that about.
Thanks for the head’s up on what the future holds, Gary. As for going flying again, not unless the war takes a turn for worse. Much worse.
You have to get a physical every year to keep the flight pay rolling in. Seems silly, but there it is.
Heh, guess I was early when I asked about the probing
Gary,
I got my “first time” coming up after the Holidays. I heard the procedure is like you said but I have the “gouge” that the purging and starvation beforehand are the pits.
I’ve never been knocked out before..hell I hope I don’t talk in my sleep.
Well, if that instapundit can do it, so can I. Do I sound scared?
B2
I smell a scam. Imagine drawing flight pay without actually flying. I think I’ll write my congressman and demand, demand I say, that Lex be forced to fly.
A little more gouge on the scoping business – there are two forms of prep in common use, golytely and phospho-soda. The first involves drinking a gallon of liquid. The second involves two ounces of salty stuff in 16 of 7up, twice. The phospho soda is sold as an enema ingredient – put in either end – works the same !!! Despite that unappetizing thought I think it’s the better way to go. Each doc has his druthers – I got my GP to find one that did it that way.
Enough of that. Let’s talk about guns or planes or women or something….
Regarding the Colonoscopy bit, I really prefer not to miss the party so I go sans sedation. The movie is really a neat exploration of the last (rear) frontier. You get to hear all the jokes during the procedure and it really is not uncomfortable. And, you get to drive yourself home.
Of course I don’t do numb for root canals either. Blows my dentist’s mind! Think it hurts him more than it hurts me. Just don’t show me any blood, particularly if its mine!
Keep up the good work Lex!
[...] Today’s entry got a chuckle . . . and some tightening of you know where. [...]