When Loo mentioned that last nights BBQ was being thrown by a doctor who worked at the hospital she works at (the same hospital where I have now had both of my surgeries, and also countless endo related ER trips); I probably should have recognized the possibility for embarrassment.
Embarrassment beyond what I wouldn't be eating or drinking.
But I didn’t. I didn’t even think of it. The possibility of my knowing someone there never even occurred to me.
Until I got there, and realized that it was a house full of anesthesiologists (with a smattering of nurses and surgeons assistants on the side).
A house full of anesthesiologists who all work at the hospital where I’ve had both of my endo surgeries at.
The likelihood that someone in this house had seen me naked was strong.
And then it hit me.
Hot Doctor.
If he was in this house, at this party, I would literally die.
For those of you who haven’t heard the amusement that is the Hot Doctor story, here are the details:
It was my second endometriosis surgery last November, and I had arrived at the hospital bright and early. Loo was actually my ride, and it was going to work out perfectly since she worked at the hospital. Not only would she be able to get insiders details while I was out (to appease my overly worried father), but she would also be able to continue working while I was having surgery; unlike any of my other friends who would have needed to take the entire day off.
After we got there and got me settled, I sent Loo off. I knew I would be going in any minute, and there really wasn’t any point in her sitting with me when I knew there were patients she could be checking on.
Can you tell how much guilt I have whenever my illness intrudes upon the lives of those I care about? I know they don’t mind, but I feel awful. I’m not a fan of anyone needing to drop anything in order to take care of me.
So Loo went off, and I waited. In a barely there gown, with thick blue socks on, no makeup, and a hairnet.
Sexy time.
In walks one of the best looking doctors I have ever seen. He was going to be my anesthesiologist, and my pulse immediately rose.
This man was going to see me naked. Passed out on a table. With all my lady bits on display.
Including the inside ones.
Fabulous.
I tried not to let this bother me too much, but if I had met this man under any other circumstances; I would have turned the flirt on full tilt.
In this situation? It was just humiliating.
Not as humiliating as it was about to get though.
You see, I woke up from my surgery just as they were pulling my catheter out. Not only did it hurt enough to make me cry, but as I was sobbing I looked up and saw Hot Doctor standing over me. The realization suddenly hit that Hot Doctor had not only seen me naked, but he had just seen someone pull a tube out of my cootchie.
“Oh no!” I shrieked. “Hot Doctor just saw my vagina.”
Hilarity ensued (I’m sure), and according to the nurse I called him Hot Doctor several more times as I was coming out of my stupor – many times while directly addressing him.
It’s also possible that when I got home that night (still in a drugged out haze) I wrote a Craigslist Missed Connections ad for him.
Yep. That happened.
So, as the realization washed over me that I could be about to have a run in with Hot Doctor, suddenly the fact that I wasn’t eating or drinking didn’t matter.
Because it could get so much more embarrassing than that!
I was wavering back and forth between the stages of girlhood crush and junior high embarrassment as I kept my eye out.
In the interim, I was looking every other person up and down. I have no idea who was in on my first surgery at all (which was only 6 months prior to the second), so it was increasingly possible that anyone there had seen me in the varying stages of undress too.
And there is something about that understanding that makes you a little less open to flirting.
I did spy one guy who I knew I knew from somewhere. I was eye stalking him and trying to figure it out; poking Loo to see if she had ever introduced him to me.
I was convinced he had seen me naked.
When I walked into a room where he was talking to people, he grabbed me and said “hi”. It was then that it dawned on me that he was the guy Mrs. King and friends had tried to hook me up with in February (the guy who I really hadn’t been interested in). Without thinking, I blurted out “Loo – He hasn’t seen me naked!’
Yep. Socially awkward. But at least not in the way I had feared being.
He gave me a funny look and said “Am I the only one?” I responded with “This is a house full of doctors – you never know.” And left it at that; appeased that he had never been in on any of my surgeries.
As the night wore on and I got more comfortable and realized that a run-in with Hot Doctor wasn’t likely, I asked a group full of women there about him; mentioning the very few details I knew.
And there was swooning. They all knew immediately who I was talking about and professed crushes, as well as lamentations that he was married with children.
Hot Doctor is not a mythical creature; but he is a taken one.
Sigh.
It’s probably for the best though. I’m not sure any good could come out of attempting to date a man I once referred to as Hot Doctor.
Or one who had seen my vagina before I ever even knew his first name.
ADSPACE
