let's get physical

I know you've all been waiting to hear about the rigorous 8 doctor medical 

I went through on Friday.

I'll spoil the ending right now but letting you know that I passed.

(although I am still saving the best part for last)

I've read many versions of this event from other adoptive parents

but still it was unlike anything I have ever experienced.

Mine took place in a very lavish hospital just down the road from the university.

We had to walk into a small building

show our passports and explain our reason for visiting

before being allowed through the turnstile.

Then we stepped outside

walked up this sort of 'avenue' I'll call it

that I was told has all kinds of flowers and shrubs in the summertime.

(Heaven forbid you were actually sick and needed immediate attention.

5 minutes in and we were still nowhere near the door to this hospital)

When we arrived at the actual building that is the hospital

we signed in

checked our coats into the coat check

put some plastic covers on our shoes 

and then stepped into this giant room.

It was maybe 40 feet long by 15 feet wide

wood panelling covered all the walls

and one wall was floor to ceiling windows covered in expensive lace curtains.

There were 4 chandeliers hanging from the ceiling

a built-in bookcase

paintings on the walls

and a series of long beige leather couches.

In the centre of the room was a conference table with 8 fancy chairs around it.

At one end of the room was a gurney behind a fabric screen.

Mom kept whispering to me, "this is so weird."

while I focused on keeping a straight face.

We waited almost an hour with 4 other couples.

Sima was in and out while we sat there

eventually returning with 2 of the 8 signatures I needed.

Minutes later a procession of medical professionals paraded in.

All women.

All wearing lab coats.

Mom whispered, "they look like they work in the meat department at Save-On Foods."

The facilitators all scrambled to get signatures from these women

they pushed and jostled

shoving paper in front of the doctors

while those of us being "examined" sat on the leather couches and watched.

Mom whispered, "Do you see that one with the red hair?  Her name tag is pinned right on her nipple."

One doctor stalked in in 4" rhinestone high heels, fishnet stockings

(oh I am so not making this up people)

a black mini skirt under her lab coat and a push up bra.

I have no idea what she was a doctor of

but she signed off on me as well.

Doctor #5 called me to the table.

Surprise.

I sat down beside Sima and she translated the doctor's question:

"When you go to your female doctor, does he touch your breasts?"

Ummm...

I did a double take

then asked,

"Do you mean does he touch my breasts, or examine them?"

She meant the latter.

Yes.

Good.

Signature.

I sat back on the couch.

Mom whispered, "What did they ask you?"

Me, "later.  I'll lose it if I tell you."

We waited another hour.

Eventually I was called into a separate room where I came face to face with the psychologist.

The questions came fast and furious

and most of them pertained to my sexuality.

Why are you not married?

Have you ever dated a man?

Why did you not marry him?

Do you date women?

Do you do drugs?

Are you a lesbian?

Are you sure you aren't a lesbian?

It went on for a good 20 minutes.

Finally she signed off on me although she still seemed leery that maybe I wasn't telling her the truth.

Back on the couches

and a lady appeared at the door.

I think to myself, "what now?  We have all 8 signatures."

She had come to serve us all tea and pretzels.

I had a cup of black current while mom sipped some regular black tea.

We carefully avoided making eye contact.