So, sometimes doing the right thing....

I am firm believer that we should always do the right thing, I am also a firm believer that I do not always do that.  I think a lot of the time we avoid the right thing is because we are afraid of the consequences (I know my daughter has no problem trying to avoid the consequences of misbehaving).

It can be painful to admit being wrong, or admit we screwed up or sometimes it can be physically painful.  I figure I would share a humorous (at least I can laugh about it now) situation I went thru immediately after I graduated from college.

WARNING GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS OF ME GOING THRU UNPLEASANTNESS

Ok, you have all been officially warned.

I started dating my ex-wife during my senior year in college, she was a junior (no, that isn't the unpleasantness).  So she still had another year away at school while I moved back in with my parents and waited for her to finish up (some advice to grads, don't move back in with your parents, trust me).

I had my first unpleasant real job and I was making decent money (it was decent because I was living at home, eating at home, and had no bills to speak of).  I also received these things called health benefits.  I did not really care about them, but man did everybody else tell me how great they were (everybody was right, I was a moron).

I did not really need to use them, as I had been fairly healthy (aside from the yearly laryngitis I would get in November, I'm odd, I know).  However, I got it in my head (which before therapy and meds was like a roller coaster in outer space) that I should get checked out for any sexually transmitted diseases.  Now I was not the most sexually active guy (tho it was not from the lack of trying, I just had no "game", kinda like now), but I was with my ex and it was something I thought responsible people did (it is, go get checked you dirty, dirty college grads).  So I decided I would dust off my health benefits and see what all the excitement was about.

So, while I like to applaud myself for making the decision to do the right thing (again you dirty, dirty college grads, it is the right thing), I do not know I would have done it at the age of 21, if I knew the pain I would go thru.

My first bout of pain came from my mother, oh my dear, sweet, over-dramatic mother (don't worry she doesn't read this blog, she doesn't know how to get to facebook on her phone let alone a blog).  When I told her why I was going to the doctor, she kinda freaked.  She said she did not think it was a good idea.  Her reasoning, now try to follow this logic, was that if my insurance company saw I was going for STD tests, they would think I was in a high-risk lifestyle and they would drop me.  Yep, that "what the hell did I just read" thought in your head was in mine too.  Had this been a Saved by the Bell type of sitcom, I would have looked into the camera and shrugged.

I did not let my mother's concern over my health coverage versus my actual health deter me from seeing my nurse practitioner (who is an amazing woman, keep in mind I said woman).  I remember going to the office and it was a beautiful summer day, which for me is blazing hot.  I was off from work and I figured lets go get some blood drawn.  I checked in, waited and got called back to a room.

The nurse came in and took my blood pressure, weighed me and briefly went over my medical history.  She then asked why I was there.  I told her I wanted to get tested.  She asked if I had any reason to think I had caught anything.  Suddenly embarrassment washed over me, I am sure I stumbled with my words less than I remember, but I remember it like I was Porky Pig.  I felt this overwhelming need to tell her that I was not some irresponsible 20-something that slept with a thousand woman and did drugs all the time.  She did not care, at all.

The nurse said my nurse practitioner would be in soon and she went on her way. A few more moments passed where I looked around the exam room...wow, neat model...huh, that is a lot of rubber gloves...do they call it a sharps container because the needles are sharp...and other stupid thoughts probably went thru my head.  Finally my nurse practitioner came in.  This is where I should have left the room.

She looked at me with a confused look on her face.  She then asked me why I was not undressed and in the gown on the counter (somehow in my mindless gazing around the room, I missed that).  The look on my face must have told her all she needed to know.

I can remember her next sentence exactly "Ok, honey, you don't know what this test consists of, do you?"  Apparently I did not, since I was figuring they would draw some blood, send it out to some lab filled with giant spinning thingys that could tell me I was clean of all dirty, dirty things.  After I told her no, she calmly pulled up the stool that sits in every doctor's exam room (you know the bad news stool they use when the news is so bad they need to sit to deliver it).  She then reached into a cabinet and pulled out a long pointy Q-tip (insert inappropriate "how long was it" joke here).  Gentlemen, this is where you may want to stop reading, ladies, feel free to laugh.

I really wish I could have seen my face as she explained that she would be inserting the sharpened Q-tip into my urethra (aka my...*ahem*).  She told me that while it would hurt going in, it would hurt more when she took it out (because all the moisture would be gone from my *ahem*).  To top it off, she informed me that the first time I peed, it would burn...a lot.

She was not wrong...about any of it.

So while I was doing the right thing, I was not enjoying it.  It was embarrassing, confusing and very painful (despite my best efforts to never pee again, my bladder eventually failed and fire ensued).

All that said, I can tell you it was the right thing to do. Knowing my mental health (or sometimes lack thereof) I can also tell you that the physical pain and ego bruising was totally worth the mental calm I got when I got a clean bill of health. 

So basically, if doing the right thing is to take a sharp stick to the *ahem*, it may actually be worth doing.