Tomorrow I return to the outpatient department of my local
hospital, a follow-up to my operation four months ago when I had my two most
prominent hemorrhoids surgically removed. In anticipation of further fumbling
around my rear exit, I ponder as to the gender of the examining doctor I would
prefer. Don’t judge me, but I hope the physician pulling on the latex gloves at
noon tomorrow is a female.
I got to thinking why this was so. Even a vain fellow like
me is under no illusion that my bare arse is anything other than grotesque; my
54-year-old buttocks, each carpeted in a generous layer of fur, will not kindle
the juices of the most desperate of spinsters. And unless the probing she-doctor
gets off on humiliating males, the procedure is not going to enhance my sexual
appeal.
All the women I’ve heard express views have emphatically
preferred a female doctor when it comes to intimate medical examinations. As
for me, I feel more exposed and vulnerable when a male is hovering around my gaping
butt. Perhaps I’ve watched the movie Deliverance
too many times and now harbour an irrational fear of being buggered. Or
maybe it’s some primitive comfort from being close to a motherly female when
I’m exposed and vulnerable. Either way, perchance all men might share my preference
for female doctors when the area of interest is our private bits?
I decide to conduct a bit of intra-family research.
“I wouldn’t want some bint gawping at my arse-hole,” says my
22-year-old son when asked to express his opinion. So my “all men will agree
with me” hypothesis is crushed in an instant.
Unperturbed, I wonder if it might be an age thing and that older
males might concur. I ask my 82-year-old father, a veteran recipient of rectal
examinations having suffered with bowel cancer six years ago.
“I’d want a male doctor every time” he says.
“I wouldn’t,” I reply, “I’d prefer a female.”
“Why?”
“Because men have a finger like the trunk of a redwood tree”
I lie.
“But women have long, scratchy finger-nails” he says.
I have no answer to that succinct piece of logic.
So there is only one conclusion I can draw about my
predilection
for feminine rectal explorers: I’m a pervert.
