ah, summertime once again.
from within a cloud of humid, lily-scented June air, we glimpse yet another birthday drifting by. as we surface for a breath of air while working on our backstroke at the public pool, a new miniature proto-wrinkle on the once-smooth visage of our author glimmers in the sun. perhaps a casual jog to the liquor store at 1:51 am leaves a lingering soreness in the calves as the calling card of maturity. nothing particularly unfamiliar so far, right? but lets take a moment to examine one of the less-documented rites of passage that apparently accompanies growing older, shall we?
ahh, the rectal exam.
after a baffling and alarming discovery in the shower one morning, a worried mccullen makes his first doctor's appointment in six years. fast forward to mccullen crossing the threshold of a university clinic. he spots an elderly woman in sunglasses absentmindedly staring at the sling in which rests her only arm. across the room, near the drinking fountain, a mother calls in spanish to her children, five in total, all of whom are under four years of age. after a brief wait, a nurse exits examining room with a patient in tow- a middle-aged black woman with an enormous mass of dubiously blonde hair who, despite the doctors presumably best efforts, is still bleeding profusely from her palms and knees. it is time for my appointment!
dr. stanford escorts me into my cell and tells me to put on the hospital gown, exiting with a kindly smile. upon her exeunt, i strip naked, place my neatly folded miu miu cardigan atop my other clothes and promptly realize i have no idea which part of the questionably-monikered "gown" is supposed to be the front. as i ponder the question, not wanting to begin my new relationship with the medical community with a fashion faux pas, i suddenly commit an indiscretion far worse than dressing incorrectly. the door to the room swings open and the doctor strides professionally in, chart in hand, before realizing that i, the patient, am completely naked and holding the gown at arms length. after the doctor recovers from her shock (not my fault she didn't knock) she helps me on with the robe (opening goes in back) and instructs me to lay on my side in the 'fetal position.' i do as am told and soon hear the all-too-familiar sound of lubricant squirting from a tube. looking over my shoulder at bonnie, i try to think of something to say to alleviate what i perceive to be our mutual nervousness. "that looks like some pretty good lube," i liltingly remark. "you think i can get that retail?" ughh, i think. why dont you just ask her if that glove she's got on is ribbed for your pleasure, you fucking jackass. the doctor chuckles and instructs me to take a deep breath. i begin to wonder if she plans on---
WHOA!!!!
hey, how about a little warning, doc! oh, i've forgotten to mention that this doctor is a dead ringer for 'stifler's mom'. so i'm praying that this Hot Lady Doctor does not manage, by some freak of nature, to evoke a hardon.
in any case, mccullen has has little to fear. the standard digital rectal exam is hardly as sultry or erotic as its steamy title suggests. she's in and out in a manner i could only have wished several previous dates would have employed. an educational experience, all told. as i exit the examining room clad once again in my street clothes, the only evidence of my experience is folded in the pocket of my shoulder bag- a prescription for allegra and a pamphlet about preparation H. that's right, that's right. they aren't just for grandmas anymore, my friends. i make eye contact with the one-armed golden girl in the lobby. she smiles warmly at me as if to say, "oh, child. just wait until you have to apply that preparation H with your only arm while trying to maintain your balance in the shower. that shit be a BITCH!"
all in all, i must admit, i'm getting excited about next year. i positively can't wait to be 24!