I have an inguinal hernia, with surgery scheduled for January. So I've seen 3 doctors this month. In each case I chose to have a Your-Skin Cone on when I dropped my pants for the exam.
- My regular doctor knows about my restoration and examined me - including that hernia check where he hooks his finger in my scrotum and has me cough - without dislodging the cone or commenting. He recommended watchful waiting, btw.
- The urgent care guy I had to see last Friday when the pain got intense asked about the cone, but only after the exam and discussion of prognosis. I showed him how it keeps the skin from retracting. He seemed very disinterested and left quickly. I had expected this guy to be curious because as an Asian with a thick accent he was statistically very likely intact himself. While I dressed I heard him talking to staff outside about rushing home, even though they were explaining that very sick people with appointments would have very long waits for the remaining doctors. So at least he had some reason to rush out.
- Monday, the surgeon finally met with me. When he asked me to drop my pants, I lost my nerve. I mean, this is the guy I needed to trust to do his best work. So instead leaving the cone there for him to work around or be distracted by, I quickly palmed it after he had spotted it and said "uh, don't mind about that" as I set it aside. Who knows what he thinks was going on. Apparently, I'm not quite an emergency, so he'll do my surgery when he gets back from his Alpine vacation. Waiting sucks. I'm in pain every day.
- My regular doctor knows about my restoration and examined me - including that hernia check where he hooks his finger in my scrotum and has me cough - without dislodging the cone or commenting. He recommended watchful waiting, btw.
- The urgent care guy I had to see last Friday when the pain got intense asked about the cone, but only after the exam and discussion of prognosis. I showed him how it keeps the skin from retracting. He seemed very disinterested and left quickly. I had expected this guy to be curious because as an Asian with a thick accent he was statistically very likely intact himself. While I dressed I heard him talking to staff outside about rushing home, even though they were explaining that very sick people with appointments would have very long waits for the remaining doctors. So at least he had some reason to rush out.
- Monday, the surgeon finally met with me. When he asked me to drop my pants, I lost my nerve. I mean, this is the guy I needed to trust to do his best work. So instead leaving the cone there for him to work around or be distracted by, I quickly palmed it after he had spotted it and said "uh, don't mind about that" as I set it aside. Who knows what he thinks was going on. Apparently, I'm not quite an emergency, so he'll do my surgery when he gets back from his Alpine vacation. Waiting sucks. I'm in pain every day.
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