ties in back

With all the medical advancements made over the past few decades how come no-one has come up with a better idea than the “tie in the back” hospital gown?  It has not evolved to any great extent, it is exactly what it once was, what it has always been, the description of which involves words I am not allowed to type here.

As if it was not bad enough with the cloth version, someone came up with the paper one.  If that was meant to divert our frustration it failed.  So now you can tell how high class, or not, your doctor’s office is, according to their choice to gown for you to wear.  Now you can say, I may look completely stupid, but at least I am sanitary and HEY, I can pretty much be assured that the patient before me didn’t also wear this one.  (unless of course there is a new university degree for being able to fold items, once used, in such a way that you can repackage them and they look brand new – which I am not denying could have happened.)

Personally I don’t think it matters one way or the other because they are all ridiculous.  The distance between my main concern upon seeing the gown and being vaguely aware of my own body and the improbability of one fitting into the other and issues regarding sanitary are so far apart you would have to pack 3 or 4 lunches and bring your pillow to walk that distance. As an adult woman over the age of 30 who has had several children, (you will understand the need for the bold italics further down)  I am beyond giving a crap about getting naked in front of the doctor or anyone else for that matter.  I don’t bother looking at myself, I am certainly not going to look at someone else looking at me.  Go look at yourself if your curious.  Want the opposite sex?  Turn on the internet, the naked people will find you.  Try heading for the sites that are for children.  They are always there.   I have learned to ignore my body, if you wanna gawk, you have to figure out your own coping method. I figure that is what they pay as doctor the big bucks for.  Someone has to deal with the medical concerns for those of us least likely to ever be chosen to appear in Playboy.

And while I am at it.  One size does not fit all.  Seeing people wandering the halls, waiting for their name to be called for a medical test of some sort, where the gown can’t make it up over their upper arms and hangs around their chest and flaps open in the breeze makes that pretty apparent.  And all those beautiful, size 0 women have private doctors at Playboy or Disneyland, and any men that size are with the rest of the Pygmy tribe somewhere in a jungle. In short your offering of your “one size” does not fit anyone who is attending your office. Fire that statistic dude who comes up with the “normal range” for everything. HE has to be completely abnormal because all of his work is shoddy.

Okay so the doctor asks me to take off my bottoms and leave my underwear on. He wants me to put on the gown and tie it up in the back (depending what he is looking at), except no-one ever ties anything. If we could reach around our back we would be able to do up our bras properly instead of doing them up in the front and sliding them around. Yes that is what those scars are on your wife.  It is basically a sheet to cover me … with arms.  Then I either lay face down or face up, again depending what I am there for.  I have never understood going in with an eye or toe complaint and having to undress completely.  My point is that what he needs to examine is open and bare and what he doesn’t … is underneath and unseen, so please speak really slow and explain to me why the “modesty gown” is even there?

Do some people actually feel comforted with … “He sees me – full frontal nudity –  but thank God he did not see my back or my butt?”

And what is with the stepping out of the room so I can get undressed??  Does he think I am going to do some kind of seductive dance for him if he stays?  Concerns for my own modesty? You can see me naked but let’s stay away for the pants half on and half off or we could just lose all control. Hello, go back and read paragraph 3 and the part about children.  I lived through a marathon of never having any privacy … not in the bath tub, the shower, on the toilet … and certainly not dressing.  I know how to fend for myself when getting dressed and cover up the offending parts. I could get dressed in a crowd of strangers and offend no-one … I mean let’s pretend the crowd of strangers even cared that I was getting undressed – I am such a professional at the whole thing, I could do it.   As for me being inappropriately stimulated by his presence … please go and reread  paragraph 3 and understand I am too exhausted for that kind of nonsense.

And then, after he pushes and prods my naked body with the “modesty gown”  dangling off one hand where it ended up after moving it a bit here and there for the examination, because let’s face it, it just gets in the freaking way … he leaves the room again so I can get dressed.  I am laying on the table practically butt naked.  He has just touched parts of me I had forgotten I even had.   Like again what?  He needs time to collect his emotions over having me put all that awesomeness away where the sweat pants and t-shirt hide it all from view? Get real. Paragraph 3 people, paragraph 3!!! People pay me to keep my clothes on.

I’d be quite happy to show up for the appointment in a trench coat, commando underneath and just save us all time and needless expense for modesty gowns.  I think it would be much better if those who are uncomfortable just close their eyes and they don’t have to see their own body, anyone’s possible arousal, etc.  Then play some church music and they can just pretend they are somewhere else.

Evidently that technique can get you through 75 years of marriage, it can certainly get you through a 15 minute doctor visit.