The Truth and Nothing but the Truth

The nurse who just minutes before had drawn several test tubes of my blood, taken my blood pressure, and then handed me a small plastic cup and told me sternly to wipe the sides with a paper towel after I filled it was now asking me a series of rapid fire questions concerning my health and lifestyle. It was all the usual medical-related inquiries asked when someone starts seeing a new group of doctors. The nurse asking the questions was friendly, in a strictly generic way, and because of that, I could tell she was not in any mood for idle banter. That did not bother me in the least because I had worked the night before and it was already nine o’clock in the morning and all I wanted to do was get through paperwork and go home so I could get some sleep.

My reason for being in the doctor’s office was for a preliminary examination to have several annoying moles removed for my chest and neck area. Something I had postponed for months due mainly to the fact the previous medical practice I used was on the other side of town and had become a serious pain in the butt to get a decent appointment. Somehow, none of the scheduling staff understood that I could not wait until the early afternoon to see the irritating and arrogant dickhead that had become my primary physician after the beautiful and compassionate lady doctor I first saw had decided to move back to Texas after getting married.

The nurse now asking me questions as I sat in an uncomfortable chair in a small exam room was a clearly a fanatical fitness type with a very military no-nonsense attitude. In fact she seemed so tough it was easy for me to imagine she could have belonged to one of those top secret special operation teams often whispered about that are forced to be coed because of the demands of their missions in enemy countries. Because of this, not only was I giving short and concise answers I had, at least at first, unconsciously sucked in most of stomach. Not that she noticed but dammit, but I have some small sliver of pride left.

The first twenty-five questions were fairly boring and asked in such a way leaving little in the way of answering beyond a simple “yes” or “no” but after that things got interesting.

“Do you drink alcohol?” She asked without pausing from typing on the computer keyboard. Silly question really but I did not tell her that.

“Do you smoke or use tobacco products in any way?” She continued. The answer is a big no on that one.

“Do you use illegal substances to get high or alter your consciousness?” The answer on that was no although there are times I wish medical marijuana was a possibility here in the middle of stuck up “Just say no” country.

“Are you married, single, or divorced?” She asked with me simply saying married in response.

“Are you sexually active?” The small portion of my brain that is agile was puzzled at the bizarre nature of the question.

“No,” I said instinctively, “I’m married, remember.”

Unexpectedly, that stopped her flat and she began to laugh. So much, she started snorting and had to leave the room. A second or two later after the door closed I heard an eruption of laughter coming from the other side. When the nurse returned she was all smiles and escorted me out of the exam room to the front desk so I could check out. Never the sharpest knife in any drawer it was not until I was driving home that I connected the true nature of her question. Dragonwife might not appreciate my answer, or this post for that matter, but sexually active and marriage just do not mesh in my mind.