There is nothing like losing your cool when you’re nude.

Yesterday I went to my gyno (I still think of him as my OB, but since I won’t be needing those services ever again, we’ll have to revert to our previously defined doctor/patient relationship). My doc is a wonderful, sweet man. He’s seen me at my worst (giving birth) and at my best (giving birth). He delivered Davey - he was the first to know our newborn son had Down syndrome and he was one who forced the life back into him.  He also delievered the twins, which I was determined to make happen because even though we didn’t expect any complications with the delivery or the babies, I knew if there were any bumps, he was the one I needed in the room with us. He went through Davey’s birth with us (an easy birth, by the way, it was just everything after that was heart-wrenching) and I trusted him to understand any emotional response I might have to whatever situation might arise. More than anything, I trust his kindness when I am at my most vulnerable. 

And really, what’s more vulnerable than being naked and in pain?

So yesterday, I was, as such exams dictate, dressed in a lovely gown of not-quite ample porportions, waiting for my doc to appear. I was looking forward to seeing him, yet also felt a growing nervousness. I knew he was going to ask me how I was doing. And I wanted to be ready to answer him.

As I sat there, I rehersed opening lines in my head.

Yet how could I summarize the past year and a half? Well, doc, I’m fine but my life has been a continual river of stress? I’m fine but I also feel like my body is disintegrating and floating out into the ether? I’m not so fine but we’re all surviving so what do I have to complain about??

When Doc entered the room, he welcomed me warmly, making me feel like a good friend he hasn’t seen in too long (ed: I don’t actually have the delusion that we are friends, but I like that he makes me - and I’m sure all of his patients - feel that way). We chatted about the kids and life. Then he had to go and ask me.

So how are you doing?

I looked away and I felt the corners of my mouth go down against my will. “Well… I’m up and down.” I tried to say more, but the words caught in my throat. I coughed. Then realized my gown was falling open and I hastily pulled it closed around me. My words stumbled .. and finally I was able to speak.

“Dex took a new job 16 months ago and commutes 3 hours a day. So I basically feel like a single mom all week. It’s been really hard.”

He took it all in, nodding his head, not seeming to notice how flustered I was, how I fumbled with my barely contained emotions. I told him about Davey’s hospitalization last fall. How hard - how painfully hard - it was for us.

I didn’t cry. A bit to my surprise, actually. Having my body to focus on, the physical reasons I was there, helped ground me. The exam from then on was comfortable (as much as these things can be) and fine.

I have, over the past 5+ years, lost my cool and wept in front of many a medical professional. To a fault, they have all been kind and sympathetic. But too, my tears have all been about Davey. Yesterday, it was about me. And I am grateful that my doctor was kind enough to listen, and kind enough to pretend I wasn’t on the verge of falling apart in front of him. I guess what makes him so good at what he does is that no matter how naked the woman in front him - physically or emotionally - he allows her to maintain her dignity as a person. That’s a hell of a gift.