My Unusual Medical Examination
I’ve always been a bit nervous about going to the doctor, especially for anything remotely close to a full physical or gynecological exam. But this time, I knew I couldn’t put it off any longer. I was bracing myself for the usual routine, but little did I know this visit would be anything but ordinary.
Dr. Meyers was kind and friendly when she walked into the room, and I immediately felt a bit more at ease. She introduced herself and reassured me, “We’ll take things at your pace, and I’ll explain everything I’m doing. This is all routine,” she said with a reassuring smile.
Or so I thought.
Step 1: The Balance Test
After taking my vitals and asking a few questions, Dr. Meyers asked me to stand up. “Could you walk across the room on your tiptoes?” she asked, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Um, sure?” I said, glancing at her, a bit confused. I did my best to balance on my toes, wobbling slightly, and made it to the other side of the room.
“Great job,” she said, nodding thoughtfully as if this actually told her something about my health. I wasn’t sure if she was secretly testing me for a circus act or if this was some new medical innovation, but I was too nervous to ask.
Step 2: Breathing in Odd Positions
Next, Dr. Meyers handed me a small foam block and asked me to kneel on the exam table. “Now, I’d like you to take deep breaths in and out while leaning forward with your arms outstretched.”
I blinked. “Like… yoga?” I asked, trying to picture the logic here.
“Something like that,” she replied with a smile. “It helps me hear your lung function from different angles.”
So there I was, kneeling on an exam table, doing what felt like child’s pose from yoga, while Dr. Meyers held a stethoscope against my back. I had no idea if this was truly necessary, but she seemed intent on it, so I went along. I just hoped I didn’t topple over.
Step 3: The “Smile and Swallow” Routine
After the unconventional breathing exercises, Dr. Meyers asked me to sit up. She held a small flashlight and instructed me to “Smile as big as you can, then swallow three times in a row.”
“Uh… okay,” I said, feeling completely ridiculous as I plastered on the biggest grin I could manage and then tried to swallow repeatedly without choking. Dr. Meyers peered into my mouth with intense focus, watching as if this was a vital part of my exam.
“Good,” she said approvingly. “Just checking for throat muscle function.” I wasn’t convinced, but I went along with it.
Step 4: Arm Stretching Test
Then came what I thought was the oddest part yet. She asked me to stand, extend my arms out to my sides, and then slowly bring them forward like I was trying to “hug an invisible tree.”
“Imagine you’re wrapping your arms around a big redwood,” she said. “This lets me check for flexibility and muscle coordination.”
“Alright,” I muttered, feeling thoroughly ridiculous as I attempted to hug this imaginary tree. Dr. Meyers watched closely, nodding with an expression of deep concentration.
Step 5: The “Windmill”
Just when I thought we were wrapping things up, she asked me to stand with my feet wide apart and do “windmill” motions with my arms. “Just ten times on each side!” she said cheerily.
At this point, I couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Are you sure this is for my physical?” I asked, giggling.
Dr. Meyers laughed, too. “It’s a great way to assess your range of motion,” she explained, although her mischievous smile made me wonder if she was enjoying this a little too much.
Step 6: Eye-Following Test with a Twist
Finally, she held up her penlight and asked me to follow it with my eyes… but she did it in slow, exaggerated figure-eights. “This part is very important,” she said with a perfectly straight face as she waved the light around like she was drawing some complex calligraphy in the air. I did my best to follow, feeling like my eyes were doing gymnastics at this point.
“Fantastic!” Dr. Meyers said, clapping her hands together. “You’ve passed all the tests.”
As I sat there, thoroughly amused and slightly bewildered, Dr. Meyers assured me that my health was in perfect order and that she’d had a bit of fun with a “holistic approach.” I left the office feeling surprisingly lighthearted, grateful for a doctor who could turn an awkward experience into something I’d laugh about for days.