SOMETHING  OF  A  SURPRISE


I'm a rather unusual, and fortunate, woman, in that I actually get
some enjoyment - a partly-sexual thrill - out of going through
embarrassing medical / clinical experiences. And when these come
along  unexpectedly: it would seem to me that most women like that
situation least of all; but for me, it has the characteristics of a
surprise treat. Yes, I know, I'm truly weird...

My most recent such "tale of the unexpected" occurred a couple of
weeks ago. I'd gone to my G.P. about my left big toe, which in an
episode of clumsiness, I had rather painfully stubbed: the pain had
lasted, and I was a bit worried about a chipped or broken bone, or
whatever. He duly attended to the member concerned, and reassured me
that it did not look as though there were any damage of the kind which
I feared. It was then that he pulled the rabbit out of the hat.
"Looking at your medical notes," he said, "I see you had a tetanus jab
about ten years ago. After that length of time, a booster would be a
good idea."

"O.K.," I replied. "An ounce of prevention, and all that..."

"For once, we're not snowed under just at the moment," he said. "If
you like, you can see Katie now, and she'll sort you out."

"Let's do it, and get it done," I said - my words maybe belying how
pleased I felt.

Katie is one of the practice nurses in the healthcare outfit with
which I'm registered. I feel that I have a good relationship with
everyone I see there (it probably helps, that I enjoy excellent health
and seldom have to bother them); but Katie, I especially like - she's
great fun, and we share the same sort of sense of humour. Of the
nurses there, she's the one whom I seem to see most of, which is fine
by me. In fact, we've become friends "off parade" - many people, in
these squeamish times, hate the idea of mixing socially with a
healthcare person who has done embarrassing things to them-in-an-
indecently-exposed-condition; but I go to the other extreme - for me,
it adds spice to the friendship.

So, out of doctor's surgery, and into adjoining treatment room for
rendezvous with Katie. "Hi, Penny," she said. "Anti-tet time, then?"

"So Dr. Matthews informs me," I replied.

"As ever, his wish is my command," said Katie. "Just drop your pants
and bend over the couch there, and the deed will be done in a jiffy."

My heart gave a little flutter - I'd hoped it would be this way, and
good old Katie hadn't disappointed me. (She knows about my enjoyment
of "rude stuff in the surgery", and in a low-profile way, tries to
oblige.)  I dislike the pain which injections give, but not to phobia-
point; and whenever one comes my way, I hope it's going to be in my
bare bottom - the rather perverse pleasure I get from the private-bits-
flaunting aspect, makes up for me (usually) for the disagreeable
experience of being stuck with a needle.

When I know beforehand, that an encounter with the medical profession
is likely to involve me in "striptease" stuff, I take prior thought
for dressing in a way which combines ease re the maximum possible
number of permutations, and my getting as bare and exposed as
possible.  For this particular visit to the surgery, I hadn't been
expecting to need to take off anything more than a shoe and a sock; I
was wearing jeans.  Worked to my advantage, as it happened; if things
need to be done to me down below, "the more exposure, the better":  to
me, prudish "doing it under my skirt" situations, supposedly to
preserve my modesty as much as can be, are disappointing. I took
pleasure in undoing my jeans and pulling them right down below my
knees - they gratifyingly fell to my feet - and likewise took my
panties down to below my knees, and bent over as instructed. Call me a
brazen exhibitionist tart - I won't be offended, I'll take a bow. In a
context of no horrid illness being threatened, I love stripping-off-
and-things-done-to me episodes at the doctor's. Makes no difference
whether the person "dishing it out" is a man or a woman; I'm sure my
feelings would be just the same, if a trained chimp were doing the
business - sometimes I get worried about me.

"I'll just put a bit of the usual alcohol on," said Katie, and did so;
cold tingling sensation as she swabbed the stuff on my left buttock.
"I envy you your bottom," she said. Not a totally Hippocratic remark,
but we're friends, as well as "the official", and there's no need for
the strictest of protocol. Women are more than a little contrary, and
as regards bodies and their attributes, usually want what they haven't
got. Katie is definitely  "slimline construction" and here she was
envying me, who am on the ample side, and don't really mind that, but
would like to be a couple-of-numbers-lower dress size. All that popped
into my head to say, as I delighted in my rude situation, was, "I envy
you your cheekbones".

"Righto, in it goes," said Katie, and suited the action...  Ow! - I
really can't say I like this bit, but roses and thorns, and all other
clichés delivering a similar message. Anyway, this "stick" was
mercifully brief.  Needle withdrawn, Katie said, "I don't think
there's any need for a plaster on this one. O.K., we're done."

As I put my nether garments back in place, Katie remarked, "Thought
you were just coming here about your toe, didn't you? I'll bet it
never entered your head that you'd end up with your knickers down for
me."

"You people are full of surprises," I returned. "Talking about bets,
I'll give you ten to one that this could have been done in my arm; you
just felt like giving me an embarrassing moment or two."

"Humiliating the patients is part of the fun," said Katie.  Of course,
this was all a don't-call-us-we'll-call-you comedy routine. Katie, for
sure, is aware of my odd fondness for being on the receiving end of
medical indignities, and is happy, tacitly, to indulge it. As she has
remarked, it makes a nice change - most women dislike such
experiences, with varying degrees of intensity. With the rare ones who
enjoy such stuff - well, it's all small-scale and low-key fun, and
harms nobody.

So Katie and I bade each other farewell, and I headed for the exit,
looking back with pleasure, on an embarrassing-and-thrilling handful
of minutes. I added this one to my mental tally of such, (some, when
I've been lucky, lasting a bit more than a handful of minutes) that
have come my way in that building, since I first registered with the
practice. I could recite all of them to you, with full details and
approximate date of each. Oh, well, everyone needs a hobby...