It is that time of the year again. The houses are brightly decorated with twinkling lights. The stores are stocked with gifts to buy. Also, it is the time of the year when I have to go for my annual exam. My doctor is pleasant. I enjoy talking with her. I only wish that I was wearing more than just a thin paper sheet during our conversations. I dread this once a year exam.
I knew that I was lacking time to myself once I started looking forward to going. Not exactly “fun time” away from the kids but at least I would have some alone time to read a book. So I enjoy the quiet as I read my juicy novel and wait for my name to be called.
Once I am called back, the first task at hand takes place at the scale. Ugh! I am sure to remove my shoes and any jewelry, jackets or sweaters that I believe are heavy enough to alter the reading. Once the number is announced (just a little too loud if you ask me), I can now sulk all the way back to the exam room. Not that I should be surprised since I frequently weigh myself at home but somehow I always believe that the scale at the doctor’s office should magically transform me to the weight that I would like to be. And that is just the beginning of the fun.
After my blood pressure is taken (an ideal number, by the way Mr. Scale), my attention is directed to the two paper sheets that I am to wear for the remainder of my time here. Once I am alone, I start to remove my clothing. I gently place my shoes under the chair and carefully fold each item of clothing on top of the chair. I always fold my clothes into a neat little stack and grab my book to have on the table before placing the sheets over my body. I take my book with me so I don’t have to jump back down onto the cold tile and risk being caught almost naked when the doctor walks in. There have been many times that I have waited awhile. However, today she is right on schedule. My doctor knocks on the room door and before I can answer, walks in on me sitting naked on the table, with my book and sheets still folded in a square.