Acetio | Blogma

The U.S. National Library of Medicine at the National Institutes of Health (N.I.H.) has a collection of interesting public health posters from China during the middle part of the 20th century.

Understanding Human Body (1933-1951)
Hygiene Education for Children (1935, 1950)
Public Health Movement (1950-1974)
Prevention of Diseases (1952-2003)
Pharmaceutical Advertisements (1935-1956)

I cover my mouth when I cough, and I spit into spittoon, ca. 1950.

I'm not the young man I used to be and I recently decided to undergo the event known-as a "check-up" - the event that used to be, in my life, relegated to cars and old people.
My fear was that it involved some "extreme" version of the thing where the doctor pushes up on the soft tissue between the scrotum (plural, "scrota") and the anus (plural, "ani") and asks me to "turn my head and cough".
From what I understood, as someone who avoids health care professionals in the same way that I avoid venomous snakes (I don't really think about avoiding them, but if trapped in the same room with one, I leave the room and close the door), there is a little finger condom that the doctor puts on (his finger) and proceeds to insert it into the patient's (my) anus and wiggle it around - something to do with the prostate.

A friend of mine who is a little older than me said that his doctor is a woman, and the prostate exam is not so bad. Another friend, who is a doctor (female), said that women doctors don't give prostate exams. So one of them is not being completely truthful.

I've never had to pick a doctor. My only experiences with doctors in medical situations have been in the E.R. when I was not altogether altogether, or as a child at the pediatrician's, when I was hyper-alert. So most of my memories of doctors are from when I was quite young, back when people in their 50s seemed positively ancient.
This is probably why I selected Old Doc McGuire as my doctor. He was very old, or at least he looked old: lots of wrinkles, shuffling walk, long pauses between my questions and his answers, etc. He reminded me of the pediatrician I saw when I was a kid.

Now, Old Doc McGuire used to be a vet - a veterinarian, a doctor of animals - before he decided to get his M.D.
When in vetrinary college, veterinarians have to select which of three specialties they wish to specialize in: Pets (cats and dogs), Farm Animals (cows and horses), or "Exotics" (snakes and birds). McGuire chose Farm Animals because, at the time, there was a need for people to do that kind of thing.
There was a British show called "All Creatures Great and Small" that was shown here on PBS that portrayed the life of James Herriot, a veterinarian in post-war England. I thought of that show when I went to see Old Doc McGuire.

I waited in the waiting room (naturally) and looked for a magazine that might interest me for a while (did you know that they've changed the illustration style of "Goofus and Gallant" in Highlights Magazine?), but didn't. I'm not in the habit of carrying my New Yorker with me, nor having an iPod (like everyone else) on hand at all times.
So I waited in the old-fashioned way: made sounds with my mouth while looking around, hoping maybe to have a conversation. And I didn't have to wait too long.
Another guy put down his copy of "Better Homes and Gardens" (I just read it for the articles) and began the same foot-tapping that I was engaged in and he saw me and gave the head-nod: "Hey."

"How's it going?" I said.

"Not much reading here, eh?"

"Nope. You been here before?"

"Eh?"

"You been to see McGuire before?"

"Oh, yeah. Once or twice. He's funny."

"..." I didn't know how to take that. "How do you mean?"

"Oh, you know. Old Doc McGuire's never forgotten his days pulling dead calves out of the backsides of sick cows. Sometimes I think he forgets that he's a people doctor now."

I smiled a little but didn't know what to say. The conversation continued a little after that, but to tell the truth, the other guy was kind of annoying and I was relieved when he was called in.

I had to wait a bit longer and then finally, annoying guy came out, gave me the thumbs-up and flirted with the receptionist.

I finally got called in to Old Doc McGuires inner sanctum and undressed at his command. I stood shivering and nearly-naked for a few minutes before he arrived.

After the joyless pleasantries we proceeded, and my thoughts turned to the lives of prostitutes. They are also paid to have forced intimacy with strangers. Do they have the same thoughts as doctors seeing patients?

Eventually the time came and McGuire put on the rubber glove and reached under my scrotum. He told me to "Turn your head and clomp your hoof."

I jerked my head around to his - ready to laugh at his joke, but with a tightened brow.

He wasn't laughing. Not at all.