Recapping My Work Physical aka The First Time I've Been to the Doctors in 2 Years
Even though I had a white female nurse I felt that since it's February this is the least I could do to show a little love to our African-American friends. Diversity is key people! It's a lot better than drinking chocolate milk imo.
Let's start off this post with some good news. I have a full time job. Hooray! I know you're excited too, but please hold your applause until the end of the blog. Thank you for your cooperation.
Before you start celebrating too hard I should tell you that it's only a temporary position, but that's quite alright. It's just what I'm looking for (minus the whole drug testing thing). I've come to the conclusion that until my hack writing career takes off, which could take 1-∞ years that I do in fact want to give teaching another try. I love helping people, I enjoy history, and can tolerate kids. I can make it work. Summers off definitely doesn't suck either. This job leaves that door open since I don't have to commit long-term. Fingers crossed I can find a full-time teaching position next school year.
I don't want to give the company away, mainly so that they cannot have their name come up in searches and see me talking about them in this forum. But before I go into great detail about my time earlier today I just want to remind you that Fergie did a horrible job with her NATIONAL anthem during the NBA all-star game. In addition I have a question for you: did you know what that A.I.D.S. was once referred to (after gay cancer) as G.R.I.D. which of course stands for Gay-related immune deficiency?
Of course you did, everybody knows that.
As for my temp job I needed to go get a basic screening physical to just prove that I am not currently on any illegal drugs and am in good enough shape to knock on people's doors and ask them why they didn't pay their electric bill. Spoiler alert I'm not and I am. But going to the doc was still something I was not looking forward too. Mainly because I had to drive over an hour away and as a man with well documented weight struggles going to the doctors is about as fun as helping a friend move, so needless to say I was dreading today, but just so you're sure, I'll say it once more, I was dreading today.
I get to my destination and begin to fill out the necessary paper-work. Well technically I parked my car, unplugged my phone from the aux-chord (I know you're curious....I was listening to Pardon My Take), got out of my car, locked it, put my keys in pocket, started walking, saw a penny on the ground, left it there, avoided a puddle, kept walking, opened the door, signed in, waited for 5 minutes, had a lady come get me, walk some more up the stairs to another waiting area, got the paperwork, sat down, and started it. But that information isn't important so I won't waste your time by including it.
Oddly enough, I also had to fill out the exact same information on an iPad. Seemed like a waste of time, but anything to further prolong having to get my physical done was alright by me. I love putting things off.
Right away my last name is spelled wrong on the form, which I found quite insulting. Don't you know who I am? Apparently, no.
On the questionnaire it asked me if I had any of the following symptoms and it lead off with weight gain. To me this felt like a personal attack so I said no, how dare you? Let's just move past that. I answered everything else truthfully with no. Aside from being fat I'm in great shape.
After I finish, I wait another 5 or so minutes. Another lady opens the door and ask if Ryan is here. Lucky for her I am and we go on our merry way to the examination room. This lady I'm referring is of course my nurse. Now for privacy sake I won't use her real name so let's just call her "Helen". I should let you know before we go any further she pronounces it "Helene" like Pam Beasley's mom/Michael Scott's former lover. If you just assumed the fake name for the sense of anonymity Helen was pronounced Helen then I don't know what to tell you other than stop being so short sighted and that we all know what happens when you assume. Just think Helene without the E (cut from the team).
Now I'm expecting, (but not assuming) that height and weight are going to be the first thing we bang out during our time together. In my past experiences with physical exams and tests in general a great strategy is to get the easy stuff done first so you have more time to dedicate to the more challenging sections. Well bucko, while I'm expecting a zig, our friend Helen (pronounced Helene) the nurse zags. She leads off by letting me know there is a urine test that will need to be completed (no shit I didn't stop smoking weed just for fun) during our time together and asks if I need to use the restroom, which of course I do. My tank is never empty. This was very nice of Helen for two reasons. A: This way I didn't have to hold in my pee any longer and B: She was shaving a few ounces off that dreaded weight portion of our program which is very much appreciated.
We go into another room for me leave my deposit (pee) and Helen gives me this whole spiel about how the cups are secure to avoid tampering yadda, yadda, yadda, I don't really care cause I know I'm clean, I just wanna get this piss out before my nuts pop. I drove over an hour and had to wait for like 23 minutes don't forget. While I'm half listening to her talk about piss security the out of the corner of my eye I spot the eye exam board. (Side note are those universally the same or do they switch them up? Feel like you need to have other copies of the test. Anyways, I'm getting off track.) I start to study it to get a leg up on the upcoming eye exam. I always get so nervous with those things just because my reading comprehension skills aren't the best, I don't want to look like some blindo just cause I can't read good.
(don't worry, yes I know it's read well)
While Helen was going on with his piss proclamation there was one thing during it that I found rather noteworthy. The toilet in the bathroom doesn't work, due to security reasons. I thought it was a little bizarre to have an non functioning toilet, but I didn't think it would matter to me since I wasn't using a toilet, I was using a cup.
Well, Helen handed me said cup it was much smaller than I was anticipating, I'd say it was the size of two Mott's Applesauce cup. Which ironically are similar to the color of pee (if you haven't been drinking enough water).
Now I'm worried about what to do with with all this excess piss since I for sure thought I had more than enough to fill up the cup. Thankfully I was being overzealous in my urinating abilities and topped off right below the brim of the cup. Had Helen not been such a pro's pro and waited until later in the appointment to take the sample who knows what kind of overflow, broken levy situation we could've had on our (my) hands?
Next is the eye exam, and I've already forgotten everything that I studied up on while the piss proclamation was taking place. Cheaters never win. Helen(e) tells me to stand behind a piece of tape so I'm the proper distance away. I'm assuming (sorry) there's like a red piece of tape or something to indicate where I should be. But no, there isn't. It's a piece of scotch tape against the wall. I make a crappy joke asking if this is part of the exam and we share a laugh. Great, Helen is on my side now. Now I'm standing behind this piece of scotch tape getting ready for the big eye exam. I'm feeling pretty confident about the test, but things quickly take a turn for the worst. I totally forgot you had to cover an eye. Silly me, it's been a long while since I last took an eye exam, I think the third digit of our year was still zero. I cover my right eye and it's like I'm Vanessa Carlton because I feel a thousand miles away and I can't see you (tonight). She tells me to recite like the 7th row and it takes me a good 15 seconds to finally decipher what I'm looking at. Shit was like hieroglyphics. I said R but it is an F. There weren't even any R's on the board. Woah-nelly. Turns out my vision isn't as great it should be but then again I'm comfortable with not being able to read size 8 font from 50 feet away. I cover my left eye (RIP) and it's like I have a new lease on life which I'm sure Left Eye would've had if she survived the crash. I'm so confident, I breeze through like 8 rows before having any trouble. I think I have 25:20 vision now, but I'm pretty sure Barry Bonds has that too and he's the all-time HR king. Great company to keep. I'll still never get glasses, that's a promise.
We return the room and it's time for the moment of truth: height and weight. First she measures me and says "well you're 6 foot, but wearing shoes so I'll call it 5 11 and a half." First off, rude. Just give me 6 foot, I need this. Secondly, bravo to an extremely thorough job by Helen. Next is weight. 302. Fuck. I'm back in the 3's something I swore would never happen again. Tbh it's a lot less than I expected, after dropping a buck twenty I've done nothing but eat pizza and give up on Nashville way too soon. However, luckily for me, using Helen's same logic considering I was wearing shoes, clothes, have a beard, could use a haircut, and already ate breakfast you could easily argue that I'm like 290, maybe even lower. So that's fine and I'll deal with that and get back on track. Not to make excuses but the Patriots losing the Super Bowl really fucked up turning February into a healthy month.
We do a bunch of silly tests. Like a breathalyzer. She asks if I've ever taken one before which of course I had. Have you never been to a Narragansett High School dance before, Helen? I've been to several and always got that colored poker chip. Then she asks me to walk to the door on my tip toes and I'm starting to think she thinks I'm drunk and is an undercover cop about to bust me for a DUI despite not drinking since last weekend.
I get up on the bed thing with the piece of butcher paper on it for a hernia exam. Apparently they can do them while you're fully clothed now which is a relief for obvious reasons. No hernias for me hooray! She checks my lungs, does my blood pressure and puts that flashlight thing in my ears. Happy to report everything is A okay!
One of the final things she does before we part ways never to see each other again is check the inside of my mouth. I tell her about this little cut thing I have under my tongue. After having a tinder meet up a few weeks ago I was terrified for the worst, but she said if you eat tortilla chips (something I do regularly) that you can cut your mouth and that's probably what it is. Probably is good enough for me, thank Heavens I don't have herpes. A nurse is the one who told me after-all.
That concludes the recap of my time at the doctors. You may now let out your applause.
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