Violate Me: Chapter Two

I was reading Shan's post today about one of those unfortunate procedures some that walk this Earth must endure. Luckily, I'm one of the hominids keeping myself pure for just the right, er-, woman. I was, however, a victim of a much more inhumane "treatment" maybe 10 years ago.

During a routine physical for a new job, some blood was detected in my bodily fluid-waste. The next step was to go to a urologist for a more thorough "exam". Thorough is an understatement, this was the mother of all exams. First you're turned into a lab rat, made to lie on a table while they inject you with Josef Mengele's secret formula that makes your head want to explode. You can taste metal, you're sweating head-to-toe, and you have to lay still for something like 19 X-Rays while they track this junk's path through your bodily filtration system and into your bladder. Just when you think they're done, they make you go empty your bladder and come back for one more. "Nice guys, I wonder what they do for fun on weekends?" I think to myself. A real, live pissing contest. The fun was just beginning.

After waiting for the 20lbs of celluloid to be developed, I get to transport them to the big U's office. They were fascinating to look at really, showing kidneys and other stuff working the junk to the bladder. Big U thought he might see a common deformation where the mesh in the middle of your kidney is loosely formed, thereby allowing a few blood cells to pass though every now and then. "Nothing to worry about" says he, "but we'll need to do one more test to be sure." Okey-dokey, what's the harm? How bad could it be?

"Put on this gown and get nekkid" was the next instruction. Okay, that's not EXACTLY what he said, but you get my drift. You gotta love those paper gowns they give nowadays, the thing was slipping off my shoulder so much I felt a bit like the girl in Flashdance, but more like Jodie Foster in The Accused right about the time she decided she din't want to dance no more. Especially when I spied more of Mengele's tools on a table nearby, one of them looked a bit like a fiber-optic cable. Uh-oh. He's going in for a better look.

Now, before they violate a man front-wise like, they shoot some numbing gel up there first. Knowing this, I think it makes the good Doctor more careless. After all, the road's already been paved, so to speak. After a few minutes, when 'Slick Willy' is in no mood to fight, the Insertion Procedure begins. His first words were, and this is no joke: "Relax." Like I should just lie back and learn to enjoy myself or something. At least the ladies get stirrups, and the proctos get knocked out. I'm sitting there watching the guy struggle to jam the damn thing up my l'il Jimmy and I'm supposed to relax?!

Of course, this isn't bad enough. Before he can look through the scope, it needs to be cleaned. This process involves a fluid being flushed through the scope, which promptly then follows the path the scope has created and you basically urinate all over yourself. Nice warm feeling. The- *ahem*- 'pinnacle' of all this abuse, was when the good Doctor, now satisfied with his work, proudly declares that I have a "beautiful bladder". So I've got THAT going for me. Which is nice.

At least he didn't leave a finsky on the dresser.