My 2 Cents — Why Guys Should Have Physicals, Too

I believe every middle-age and older man should get yearly physical exams — for peace of mind for himself and his family, if nothing else. However, I’m not cuh-razy about undergoing one for myself. That’s part of the reason why I haven’t had one in three years. There’s something about getting up close and personal with a doc that I find embarrassing. Or at least I used to do so. Today, I took a different approach. I decided to view today’s exam as if my body was a vehicle I was taking to my service manager buddy Jerry Kelly at Robideaux’s to check out from headlights to rear bumper. Rather than endure, I asked questions and had a list of things that I was concerned about. A short list. I’m not falling apart yet.

It’s difficult not to be self-conscious when a nurse asks you to step onto a scale, to pee in a bottle, and starts taking your blood pressure as soon as you step into the exam area. (I’ve often wondered what candidate endorsement interviews would be like if we required candidates to do that before we began hitting them with questions.) This time, however, I viewed the routine in mechanical terms (read: she was checking the oil, water and tire pressure). It helped me relax. It also helped her to get a legit blood pressure, rather than one that was higher as a result of my embarrassment and increased tension.

I brought a paperback copy of “The Phantom of the Opera” to read during the inevitable down time when you’re waiting half naked for the physician. Doc Chisholm entered the exam room within moments after the nurse left. I didn’t have a chance to find out what the Opera Ghost was doing to The Egyptian and Raoul in his torture chamber in the middle of the lake. (The book version is somewhat different than the movie.) The doc is a good guy with a good sense of humor. We talked over my list. He asked questions. He was interested in a home remedy that I discovered (that seems to work only for me) that helped knock out an acid reflux problem that had required the use of Prevacid. He kicked the tires. Listened to my heart and breathing. Then, he grabbed his rubber gloves and checked, ahem, under the hood. (Can’t think of a different metaphor. Sorry.) This is the part that causes males to quiver like a mouse cornered by a hungry tomcat — and to shy from physicals. And the part that our wives and galpals tsk-tsk and say, “We’ve been through worse, at a far younger age.”

The exam and blood work (transmission fluid?) was over quickly. Doc Chisholm made some recommendations. He was pleased with my walking routine. And suggested that I eat breakfast more often in an effort to break a late-night snack habit. Now, we’re waiting for numbers. But I’m not to anxious about that. For the most part, the doc said the numbers from an EKG and other tests were “boring” — and that’s a good thing. As I was leaving, he extended his hand to shake mine — and I refused to take it, at first chuckling: “I don’t know if I should shake your hand. After all, I know where it’s been.”

Bottom line, guys? Get a physical — for you family’s sake, if nothing else. It’s no big deal.