You give me a reason to live

I spent the day trying out my medical benefits. I'm pleased to report they work. In fact, everyone should have it this good. No really. I mean it.

First there was the flu shot. Then the nice nurse came in and gave me a paper gown and a sheet and asked me if I knew what to do with them. I looked up from the novel I'm reading and nodded but refrained from something like I've been in more stirrups than John Wayne. She's a new nurse. Best she gets me in small doses.

I hummed You Can Leave Your Hat On and stripped down to my socks.The perennial question - leave them on or not? The room was chilly, but I'd gone to the trouble of painting my toenails to match my fingernails. Some decisions are so difficult.

I hummed You Can Leave Your Socks On while I tried to tug the paper gown into some semblance of a garment that didn't show more skin than was medically necessary. I sat on the table and went back to reading the Agatha Christie novel I'm desperate to finish because I cannot figure out who did it.

I didn't get very far because I become fascinated with the size of the paper gown's shoulders. I looked like a Shogun Warrior. I was in the middle of taking a photo of myself  when cute Doctor Jayson knocked on the door. I tossed my phone into my purse and tried to act cool.

We chatted, as per usual, before getting down to business. Right before feeling me up, he noted how pretty my fingernails looked. Damn it. I'd kept my socks on so he'd miss the joy of seeing my sexy toes.

I told him about being published (he's been very encouraging of my writing endeavors over the years) and, unlike my mother who responded to news of the publication with "well, (pause) how's the weather down there, he congratulated me. He asked if I was still working on my novel and I groused that it's moldering on a hard drive. As it should be. It's crap.

Tell me again what it's about?

I did and that led to our discussion of WWII while he did what he had to do and I stared at the ceiling. I've had some interesting interactions in my time, but that is the first time I've talked of snipers and Omaha Beach while someone is looking at my cervix.

Once that bit of fun was over, I was shot full of tetanus and sent on my way with a prescription for happy pills and an appetite suppressant. After a stop in to submit to the phlebotomists aka non-sparkly vampires, I strolled across the hall where I was instructed to strip to the waist, rid myself of any trace of deodorant and powder and don a cape.

From Shogun Warrior to braless super hero. Who cared if I ever finished reading that Poirot?

I waited in a little room with another caped crusader and fiddled with my phone. It's a little cold in here isn't it? she had a lovely southern drawl. Her name was called and I was alone again with Hercule. A few pages later, I was invited into the room housing the breast press. The very patient technician helped me to pose, contorting myself so that my knockers could be mashed with the utmost efficiency.

Okay, hold your breath......don't move.

I returned home with my nipple shields still in place. You never know when those things might come in handy.

Another year, another chance to prevent health problems. And if I have any sense at all, I'll be aware that I'm lucky to have the medical insurance coverage to do this. Not everyone is so fortunate.