Knickerbot

I am lying down on the examination table while the doctor checks my neck for abnormalities.

Doc: Okay, I need to do an ultrasound. Have you done one before?
Me: Yes, at my gynae’s.
Doc: Oh no, I meant for your internal organs like the liver.
Me: Nope.
Doc: (starts squeezing the gel out of the tube) Okay, let’s take a look.
(Tries to lift up the top layer of my dress and I realized that he was going to scan my tummy area. So I pulled the skirt of my dress up, wondering why there wasn’t a blanket to cover my nether regions. Out comes a glimpse of my knickers.)
Doc: Whoa!
Me: Eeeeee!
Doc: Let me call my nurse in.
Me: Yes, good idea!

I was MORTIFIED. I mean, I flashed my knickers at the doctor, whom I had just met for the VERY FIRST TIME. Not that I would have treated him to a precious viewing of my pretty underthings if he had known me for a while now but still. He hadn’t realized that my two-tier dress was, indeed, a dress and I stupidly helped him to pull it up. Okay to make it easier for you to visualise, I was wearing this pretty dress from Smooch.

You would think that with all my, uhhmm, vast experience in having doctors peer at my nekkid bottom, I would have realised that a female nurse and a blanket were absolutely necessary in a situation like this.

And you know what the worst bit was?

I was wearing my old black Topshop knickers that had FLIRT emblazoned boldly across the front.

SO EMBARRASSING.

Luckily for me, we managed to move on from that scandalous state of affairs like the mature adults that we were. We nattered for a bit and he even mentioned that he first thought I was half-Japanese(!!) when I walked into the room. KAWAII NE!

The good news is, my insides are “structurally” fine. Yay! The doc says that nothing has collapsed and he thinks the gastroscope is the only way to know for sure why my gastric problems keep coming back. He’s ruling out gallstones for the moment, he says, because I am “not fat”. I don’t know why but I found it really funny. He did mention that it could possibly be stress-related after hearing about our IVF attempt so boo.

Oh and coincidentally enough, he is also a Dr Y. Hmm. Maybe that will be my criteria for selecting doctors in future, seeing how Y is my favorite alphabet. To avoid confusion, my gastro doctor will be Dr Y2 and of course, the best doctor in the world will forever be the funniest, nicest and cleverest Dr Y (in case he is reading this).

But Dr Y has doubtful taste in men. He made out Dr Handsome to be a very handsome doctor but I find Dr Handsome only moderately handsome. Let’s put it this way: he is no McDreamy nor McSteamy. But I cannot be bothered to rename Dr Handsome “Dr Not So Handsome” and therefore Dr Handsome he shall remain, for convenience’s sake.

I do have the strangest luck with doctors.