I went to see my oncologist the other day and he didn’t want to see my boob(s). Or rather didn’t need to see them (it?). But before I get ahead of myself let me introduce Dr. Richard Schwab, M.D., oncologist extraordinaire. If you visit him on the web (by clicking his hyperlinked name) – don’t let his boyish good looks fool you, he’s smart and charming too. But is that really important in a doctor’s qualification? Damn right it is. If I’m going to get bad news, I want it to be from someone who is easy on the eyes. Hey! I never said I’m not shallow. In fact, I think I have fully owned up to it on more than one occasion. Besides that though, he is a great doctor because he openly admits to not knowing everything and what he does know, it is clear he knows well. Who knew you’d get a Yelp review and a blog in one!?!
But I digress… back to my oncology visit with the charming Dr. Schwab. I was shown to the room with my cancer ‘buddy’, Nicole. She goes to all my doctor’s visits with me; not out of the goodness of her heart but to escape from her four children. The first thing I noticed out of place was the absence of a “Please undress from the waist up including your bra” gown. Weird but okay… let’s see how this plays out (And yes, for the record, I did just end the sentence in a preposition). We (Nicole and I) met with Dr. Schwab, spoke about treatment options, future outlook and current research, all the while I was fully clothed.
And then the unthinkable happened.
We shook hands and the appointment was over. Wait. What just happened here? Not even a flash of boob? A small grope? A peek? Nothing? Nada? Zip? Zilch? Should I be thankful? Insulted? And still today I dwell. Was it something I said?