paper clothes

There are few things that compare to the level of awkward vulnerability that I feel sitting in the doctor's office, on the little table (which even I feel too big for), stark naked except for two pieces of paper 'clothing' - and I use that term very liberally!!

They are either too big or too small for 99.9% of the population - how is that possible, that they are designed to fit absolutely no one - manage never to cover anything - and rip or disintegrate at the slightest touch.

Meanwhile, half way betwixt properly clothed and not (since the strips of paper don't really count) the doctor invariably walks in ... when I am half-naked, balancing on one foot in an attempt to remove pantyhose, without falling over (major challenge for me!!) and there is the startled embarrassed pause...
'oh, excuse me' - says the doctor...

Somehow this same doctor, who is about to look me over stem to stern in another 30 seconds, is backing out of the room sheepishly as if they have just caught their parents having sex. And now I am trying to undress even quicker because I am not sure what happens if the doctor comes back twice and you're not ready...they may just send you home, I don't know... but not a risk I wanted to take. I get up on the table and attempt some sort of sarong wrapping and fastening with the ridiculous paper ties to cover myself with the two pieces of transparent, fragile, tissue paper that they have provided me with, just as the doctor is walking back in. Whew, just in time!!!

To make matters more fun, when the doctor comes back into the sub-zero office (and may I ask why the f___ do doctor's office have to be the temperature of Antarctica? is that really necessary? wouldn't a mere 65 degrees be sufficiently chilly? ... apparently not) I am now gripping the paper covering to find a modicum of warmth - the 'cloth' is already showing signs of turning to shreds, shivering, half-purple...and...the doctor asks me to take the top off...
Well! couldn't we have just done this 30 seconds ago when you walked in the first time! I already had my top off!

Fine!! As I go to take the top off the ties refuse to untie or tear ... and while the rest of the top is willing to melt away with a strong breath, the ties are apparently teflon and refuse to budge! Awesome!! Then I get images of the Incredible Hulk flashing through my mind, but it seems just a little too 'in the moment' for even me, to just rip the shirt off and cast it aside in true Dr. Bruce Banner fashion. I shimmy out of the shoulders, roll it down to my waist and ... the doctor begins putting their ICE COLD hands on me - I mentioned that the office is Antarctica right?! And of course, my body instantly reacts...cold is cold!! My mortification levels have reached unquantifiable proportions because I look aroused when I am simply freezing and the same paper shirt that I was previous viewing with such disdain (and silently cursing) is now like a life raft after being shipwrecked in the middle of the Atlantic!!! Can I go now!

This is merely one of the 3 million reasons that I detest going to the doctor!!!

I know after the story this may be heavy, but I feel I must dedicate this post (not to make light but in the hope that others will send strength to them by their thoughts) to the poor sweet couple who lost their baby yesterday while I was at the doctor's office. I don't know who they were - what their names were, but my heart broke for them - over-hearing what had happened, seeing the look on their faces. It was overwhelming. My dearest wish is that for every tear that they cry now, blessings ten-fold will be poured at their feet.