st prostate exam...what a disaster.
11-30-2011, 08:08 PM
I wanted to let you young bucks know, that one day, you too ,will have a man's finger prancing in your ass looking for..... whatever the hell they want to look for.
I went to a urologist today that was referred to me by my primary care physician .He requested that I get an early start on anything I may be predisposed to. I decided to take his advice, and get a DRE .I arrived at the office of the honorable Dr. Kyong , and as soon as I entered, I knew that this was going to be a bad day for me. First,the fat grease bucket looking bitch at the counter, was gnawing at a #2 pencil when she greeted me. I could tell she didn't want to be at work, and when she handed me the clipboard and the pen, she made no eye contact. I sat down, scanned the greeting area, and saw that the pictures were crooked, and the carpet had highway miles on it . After filling out my forms, I handed it back to the creature, sat back down, and continued to stare at the wretched decor in the office. Then , a second large beast, claiming to be an assistant, greeted me and instructed me to follow her to the waiting room. She recited her little script, and since I was already put off by the first slob, my answers were short, direct, and I could tell she was put off by it. She closed the door and told me that my doctor would be in shortly. Well, he certainly wasn't prompt, since by my timekeeping abilities, he was running 45 minutes behind .
As my doctor entered the room, I stood to greet him, and we shook hands. Now this is where it starts getting a little funky. I wanted to talk to him, but his answers were short, direct, and he had no room for any small talk at all. This is the first time I have ever felt a little uneasy about an exam, and I really needed a bit of comfort before having a man twirl his finger in my ass . This cocksucker had no bed side manners at all. I don't know if this is an "asian " thing, but this is the 3rd asian doctor I have had, who had the absolute same bedside manner. White doctors, will try to sell you the entire hospital when all you really need, is a stitch for a cut on your finger, and black doctors, will give you 2 aspirins, pray with you, although you were diagnosed with stage 4 liver cancer. I'm an equal opportunity racist, so take it for what it's worth.
Anyhoo, Kwong, instructed me to drop my trousers, and assume a particular position. Again, no small talk. I unbuckled my belt slowly, and began humming a tune just to quench my discomfort. I had my back turned to him and I could hear this rattling sound coming from behind me. I really didn't want to turn around, but I couldn't help myself. He was rattling thru the drawer, and out popped the box of gloves and lube. My eyes were fixated on the gloves and I was thinking "Jesus, this can't be happening to me". He lubed the glove up and stood up from the chair. It felt like my Dad had just finished talking to me about being a delinquent and it was time to get a beatin'. I was instructed to bend over the bed and cock that ass up a bit. Again, no small talk. I did as I was told , but I had one eye pointing forward, and the other eye cocked sideways trying to gauge the entry. I really didn't know what to expect and before you know it, it seemed like both of my eyeballs came clean out of my skull . I muzzled a gasp , and instinctively clenched. "Loosen up", was all I heard. Again, no small talk, just directives. After prancing around in me for a bit, he pulled his finger out , took off the gloves, threw it in the trash, and sat back down. Meanwhile, I'm still cocked up with an ass full of lube,waiting for instructions. I decided to ask a question. "Are you done "? "Yes", he replies. Again, no small talk. I pulled my trousers up, buckled my belt, and stood looking out the window. I felt used. He scribbled up a few things on my chart, and gave me a box of tissue . That was nice. Do I get an engagement ring too? He instructed me to go clean up and give the form to the behemoth at the front desk. I went to the bathroom, pull my trousers back down, and cleaned up the excess lube while mumbling some shit I don't really remember at this point. I know I was mumbling, because I always mumble when I'm upset. I came out of the bathroom with a different spring in my step, but quickly straightened up and handed in my forms. I think the lube makes you want to walk funny, as you try to adjust to it moving around in you. The fat pig decided to make small talk, but I was having none of it.
I think I am going to have to reevaluate my doctors recommendations. I have taken two showers, and as I sit here, I still feel a bit strange. Your day will come too.
I went to a urologist today that was referred to me by my primary care physician .He requested that I get an early start on anything I may be predisposed to. I decided to take his advice, and get a DRE .I arrived at the office of the honorable Dr. Kyong , and as soon as I entered, I knew that this was going to be a bad day for me. First,the fat grease bucket looking bitch at the counter, was gnawing at a #2 pencil when she greeted me. I could tell she didn't want to be at work, and when she handed me the clipboard and the pen, she made no eye contact. I sat down, scanned the greeting area, and saw that the pictures were crooked, and the carpet had highway miles on it . After filling out my forms, I handed it back to the creature, sat back down, and continued to stare at the wretched decor in the office. Then , a second large beast, claiming to be an assistant, greeted me and instructed me to follow her to the waiting room. She recited her little script, and since I was already put off by the first slob, my answers were short, direct, and I could tell she was put off by it. She closed the door and told me that my doctor would be in shortly. Well, he certainly wasn't prompt, since by my timekeeping abilities, he was running 45 minutes behind .
As my doctor entered the room, I stood to greet him, and we shook hands. Now this is where it starts getting a little funky. I wanted to talk to him, but his answers were short, direct, and he had no room for any small talk at all. This is the first time I have ever felt a little uneasy about an exam, and I really needed a bit of comfort before having a man twirl his finger in my ass . This cocksucker had no bed side manners at all. I don't know if this is an "asian " thing, but this is the 3rd asian doctor I have had, who had the absolute same bedside manner. White doctors, will try to sell you the entire hospital when all you really need, is a stitch for a cut on your finger, and black doctors, will give you 2 aspirins, pray with you, although you were diagnosed with stage 4 liver cancer. I'm an equal opportunity racist, so take it for what it's worth.
Anyhoo, Kwong, instructed me to drop my trousers, and assume a particular position. Again, no small talk. I unbuckled my belt slowly, and began humming a tune just to quench my discomfort. I had my back turned to him and I could hear this rattling sound coming from behind me. I really didn't want to turn around, but I couldn't help myself. He was rattling thru the drawer, and out popped the box of gloves and lube. My eyes were fixated on the gloves and I was thinking "Jesus, this can't be happening to me". He lubed the glove up and stood up from the chair. It felt like my Dad had just finished talking to me about being a delinquent and it was time to get a beatin'. I was instructed to bend over the bed and cock that ass up a bit. Again, no small talk. I did as I was told , but I had one eye pointing forward, and the other eye cocked sideways trying to gauge the entry. I really didn't know what to expect and before you know it, it seemed like both of my eyeballs came clean out of my skull . I muzzled a gasp , and instinctively clenched. "Loosen up", was all I heard. Again, no small talk, just directives. After prancing around in me for a bit, he pulled his finger out , took off the gloves, threw it in the trash, and sat back down. Meanwhile, I'm still cocked up with an ass full of lube,waiting for instructions. I decided to ask a question. "Are you done "? "Yes", he replies. Again, no small talk. I pulled my trousers up, buckled my belt, and stood looking out the window. I felt used. He scribbled up a few things on my chart, and gave me a box of tissue . That was nice. Do I get an engagement ring too? He instructed me to go clean up and give the form to the behemoth at the front desk. I went to the bathroom, pull my trousers back down, and cleaned up the excess lube while mumbling some shit I don't really remember at this point. I know I was mumbling, because I always mumble when I'm upset. I came out of the bathroom with a different spring in my step, but quickly straightened up and handed in my forms. I think the lube makes you want to walk funny, as you try to adjust to it moving around in you. The fat pig decided to make small talk, but I was having none of it.
I think I am going to have to reevaluate my doctors recommendations. I have taken two showers, and as I sit here, I still feel a bit strange. Your day will come too.
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