Thursday, April 07, 2011

Old Guys

Recently I paid a follow-up visit to my urologist.  Lots of fun!  I was more relaxed than I’d been before my initial visit several weeks earlier.  At least I knew I didn’t have prostate or bladder cancer.  

Not being so self-absorbed, I watched and listened to others in the busy waiting room, knowing that some might be nervously waiting for “bad news”.

There must have been at least two dozen old fogies shuffling around in that crowded space.  Do I give up my seat to someone else?  No!  I’m just as old as they are, a scary thought I might add.

I’d forgotten or hadn’t noticed that seniors wear jeans too.  Not stylish ones but faded representations that don’t hang properly and show far too much sock.  Maybe it’s because they’re hoisted up around their owner's armpits that they don’t look so great.

And the shoes!  No Nikes or Reeboks here.  The generic Runmasters or Jogging Sensations from the five and dime store.  The half-cocked baseball caps carried the logos of obscure farm supply stores, girl’s ping pong teams and foreign travel providers.

What am I doing here?  Am I in the twilight years of my less-than illustrious career?  A member of I. P. Knightley’s club?  Many disturbing questions begged an answer.

One by one they hobbled in to see their physician.  Two doctors shared office space in the medical complex.  Good thing or I’d have been there forever.  As the men exited their doctor’s inner sanctum they either reluctantly booked their next visit or were told by the nurse/receptionist when their dreaded surgery would take place.

Listening to the waiting patients talk about the “good old days” was both humorous and enlightening.  One spoke of the days when winter graced us with 60 below temperatures. Another talked about making 30 cents an hour.  “But that was yesterday and yesterday’s gone.”

It was finally my turn to pee in the bottle but that’s “old school” now apparently.  I was led into a room when I could leave my “specimen” in a seemingly computerized pot where a printout would inform the doc of all he needed to know.

After a 35 minute wait and a 3 minute consultation I left.  I’m still not sure whether I felt like a puppy in the company of a bunch of old dogs or perhaps that life had somehow passed me by and I was now one of the old guys.  Not a nice thought.  My next appointment is a year from now!  Can't wait!    

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